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PUBLICATIONS OF THE TRAINING SCHOOL AT VINELAND 
NEW JERSEY 

DEPARTMENT OF RESEARCH 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE 
FEEBLE-MINDED 



BY 

ALFRED BINET, Sc.D. and TH. SIMON, M.D. 



TRANSLATED BY 

ELIZABETH S. KITE 

Diplome d'Instruction Primaire Superieure 

Paris le 23 juillet, 1905 

Member of the Staff of the Vineland 

Research Laboratory 



fAf/ oEVoreo '••&''//, 

0^/ TO THE \oi 

0%: INTERESTS OF i^" ^ 
^>- THOSE WHOSE :*^ 
^-4; MINDS HAVE NOT -X? 
« ^\ DEVELOPED -Mt^ 






^^^WWsNSS^' 



NO. 12, JUNE, 1916 



Monograp 



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Copyright, 1916 

BY 

Henry H. Goddard 



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1916 

WILLIAMS & WILKINS COMPANY 

BALTIMORE 



JUL 26 1916 

©Cl.A43i;)96 



CONTENTS 

Pakt 1 

The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded 
(L'Annee Psychologique, 1909, pp. 1-147) 

CHAPTEBS PAGE 

Introduction 5 

I. Character — The Rebellious and the Docile 13 

II. Attention from the Point of View of its Concentration 29 

III. Voluntary Effort 34 

IV. Movements in Writing 46 

V. Intelligence and Perception 53 

VI. The Sense of Pain 60 

VII. Association of Ideas in the Feeble-Minded 66 

VIII. Activity of the Intelligence Distinguished from the Level of 

the Intelligence 75 

IX. The Number Sense and the Arithmetical Faculty 88 

X. Reasoning 97 

XI. Suggestibility through Docility 106 

XII. How a Moron may have an Esprit Faux 120 

XIII. A Scheme of Thought 130 

Part II 

The Language of the Feeble-Minded 

(L'Annee Psychologique, 1908, pp. 284-339) 

I. A New Psychogenetic Method 159 

II. Aphasia and the Psychology of Language 162 

III. An Observation of an Imbecile. Scientific Determination of 

her Level 164 

IV. Analysis of the State of Language of this Imbecile 170 

V. Discussion of Three Hypotheses upon the Absence of Speech in 

our Subject 177 

VI. The Psychological Condition of Speech. Experiments and 

Theory 181 

VII. Comparison between Aphasia properly so-called and the Poverty 

of Language of the Low Grade Imbecile 188 

VIII. The Function of Language as a Sign of Human Intelligence... . 193 

IX. The Evolution of Language 198 

X. The Relation between Language and Thought 210 



/ CONTENTS 

Part III 

Feeblb-Mindedness and Dementia 
{L'Annee Psychologique, 1909, pp. 168-272) 

CHAFTERd VASB 

I. The Intellectual Weakening in General Paralysis 219 

II. The Minor Psychological Signs of General Paralysis 270 

III. Difference between the Two Notions of Functioning and Develop- 
ment 271 

IV. Distinction between Ideational Intelligence and Instinctive 

Intelligence 297 

Conclusion 320 



INTRODUCTION 

It IS with peculiar pleasure that the Vineland Research Depart- 
ment presents to the public Miss Kite's translation of Binet and 
Simon's work entitled The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded. 

Nowhere does Binet's genius show more brilliantly than in this 
work. That he in the midst of a busy life and in addition to all 
his other work could have acquired so great a knowledge of men- 
tal defectives is amazing ; the more so when we realize that it was 
first-hand knowledge gained from observation backed by keen 
perception, that perception that enabled him to see the truth 
with a quickness that makes the rest of us, still groping in the 
dark, question if it was truth Binet saw. But that it was truth 
we are learning every day. After ten years of the Vineland labo- 
ratory it is surprising to find how little we have found that Binet 
had not already discovered. It is true we have found it inde- 
pendently and so it is confirmatory evidence. 

It is because our own experience has led us to the same conclu- 
sions, wherever we have studied the same points, that we have 
come to have such a profound regard for Binet that we feel like 
pronouncing this the most important and enlightening work on 
the real nature of the mental defective, that has ever appeared. 

The study of the language of the feeble-minded will also be 
found most illuminating in a region usually characterized by 
darkness. 

Finally the discussion of feeble-mindedness and dementia is 
quite as timely and enlightening as the rest. 

We have included these various articles in this volume for two 
reasons: first, because they all contribute to our knowledge of 
the feeble-minded; and second, they all give us further illustra- 
tion of the way Binet used his own Measuring Scale. 

A word might be said in reference to the title. Binet and 
Simon's title for the first and longest section is ^^U Intelligence des 
Imbeciles" literally "The Intelligence of the Imbeciles" but they 
definitely state (page 10) that they refer to the entire group of 
subnormals. Hence, while "Imbeciles" is still the legal word, we 

5 



6 INTRODUCTION 

have preferred to use the more popular generic term, Feeble- 
Minded, as on the whole better expressing the meaning of the 
authors and conveying a clearer idea of the scope of the work. 

It was originally intended to publish this volume and The De- 
velopment of the Intelligence in Children as one, hence all that was 
said there of the faithful work of the various members of the 
Research Department should be repeated here. Miss Kite's 
translation will speak for itself. 

Biographical Note. No one will read these volumes without 
desiring to know something of the distinguished authors. 

Alfred Binet was born in Nice, July 11, 1857. His mother 
was an artist; his father a physician. 

JBin^t-jii£Bt-eacJ^Cto. Paris and studied first law then medicine. 
He worked in the biological laboratory of the noted Balbiani. 
But he was strongly drawn toward Experimental Psychology. 
In 1889 he created at the Sorbonne the first Psychological Labo- 
ratory in France. 

He was remarkably versatile and worked and wrote in many 
fields. 

He was an indefatigable worker, but he worked easily and 
always with that keen insight which enabled him to see quickly 
the significance of his facts, so that little energy was wasted on 
useless hypotheses. 

He died in Paris, October 18, 1911, from an acute attack of 
cerebral apoplexy. 

Dr. Th. Simon was born at Dijon, July 10, 1873. He took 
his degree in medicine in Paris. His thesis received Honorable 
Mention. 

Since 1908, he has been physician at the Hospital for the Insane 
at Saint-Yon. 

After the death of Binet Dr. Simon was made President of the 
Society for the Psychological Study of the Child. 

Henry H. Goddard, 

Editor. 



PART I 

The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE- 
MINDED 

PRELIMINARIES 

Numerous investigations, especially in France, directed to- 
ward pathological psychology, have exercised such an influence 
upon philosophers that some of them have come to consider 
mental pathology as the best means of psychological analysis 
— which is true; but they have even gone so far as to believe 
that it is by pathology alone that the normal can be understood 
— something infinitely less probable. We need nothing further 
as proof of this prejudice than the fortune which has attended 
that expression Mental Synthesis (synthese mentale) which is 
today so wide spread that it has come to be the center of the ex- 
planation of all mental states, and which evidently originated 
in the observation of patients deprived of this synthesis. It 
results from this that the notion of co-ordination, and that of 
hierarchy, which are the analyzed elements of the idea of syn- 
thesis, have entered into the plan of all the theories. 

We have not the slightest intention of objecting to the truth of 
these conclusions, but only to their exaggeration: they seem to 
us very limited, and cannot in our opinion embrace the immense 
domain of the pathology of mind; and the studies which serve 
as a basis for them have neglected a great number of "malades 
mentaux," who, we believe, do not suffer at all from a lack of 
mental synthesis. In a word, we think that mental pathology 
contains, as subjects worthy of study, not simply hysterics, 
neurasthenics, psychasthenics, etc., those examples typical of 
disintegration, but types wholly different; for example, those of 
backward intelligence, and the diverse categories of dementia. 
If we add the two latter classes to that of the disintegrated, we 
shall certainly arrive at a very much broader view of mental 
pathology. 

This is precisely the work which we have undertaken; and let 
us say at once, in order to clear our path in advance, we have 



10 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

come to the conclusion that the particular psychological modifi- 
cation which constitutes "un aliene," has at least three funda- 
mental causes (without prejudice to other mechanisms, which 
are unknown to us, or rather of which we have only a presenti- 
ment) . 

1. An alteration of mental synthesis — we shall not speak of this. 

2. A defect, an arrest, or an insufficiency of intellectual develop- 
ment. 

3. A defect, an arrest, or an insufficiency of intellectual func- 
tioning. 

To the study of these last two mechanisms, two distinct arti- 
cles will be devoted, one upon Imbeciles, the other upon Dements. 

This article will deal only with the inteUigence of imbeciles, 
or rather, taking in our title the species for the genus, we shall 
set forth what is peculiar to the intelligence of all types of de- 
fectives. There is in particular, as everyone knows, a lack 
of development; and apropos of this we shall present a new method 
of psychology, which may be called psychogenetics. For it will 
suffice for us to put into a series, in the order of the develop- 
ment of their intelligence, a certain number of these backward sub- 
jects, and to study throughout this series a particular phenomenon; 
for example, the sense of pain or the attention, to see what are 
the necessary stages of development which this phenomenon 
presents, and how it evolves. Looked at from this psychological 
point of view, the study of the imbecile approaches that of the 
normal child and even of animals. We find here a means of re- 
newing, developing, and perfecting our former investigations 
upon children. This comparing of a backward intelligence to 
that of a child of a certain age, might have passed ten years ago 
as simple literary comparison; but since today we have acquired 
the power to fix within a few months at least the age of the intelli- 
gence of defectives,^ since we can with good reason consider a 
certain idiot of thirty years as the equivalent of a child of one, 
or an imbecile of twenty as the equivalent of a child of six, and 
since these defectives are so many children arrested in a certain 
phase of their development, we have only to arrange these de- 
fectives in an ascending series of evolution, in order to make 
with it and because of it, the psychogenesis of a function. 

' See our preceding article upon "The Development of the Intelligence 
Among Children" (p. 108). 



PRELIMINARIES 1 1 

The critics of tomorrow, who surely will not fail to appear, 
will teach us what must be corrected and gone over in our plan 
of studies; for the sources of error, little by little, will have been 
disclosed. That is a secondary work. But first it must be demon- 
strated, and this is what we are going to attempt, that the new 
method to which we are calling attention really exists; and that 
to make this demonstration, nothing is simpler than to put it 
in operation. We shall therefore trace, by means of a study of 
imbeciles, the mental evolution of the following phenomena: 
character, attention, effort, motor ability and writing, the intel- 
ligence of perception, the sense of pain, association of ideas, in- 
tellectual activity, the arithmetical faculty, reasoning, suggesti- 
bility and docility, and how an imbecile may have "V esprit faux." 

Afterwards, leaving the details, or rather by synthesizing them, 
we shall try to discover exactly in what mental development 
consists, by what mechanism it is produced, and how a superior 
intelligence differs from an inferior one. Apropos of this we shall 
be led to describe a new scheme of thought in order to under- 
stand thoroughly the manner in which it develops. 



CHARACTER OF IDIOTS 15 

The portrait which we give of him (fig. 1) is made from a 
snapshot; the wrinkles of his forehead are due to blinking 
caused by the direct light of the sun. This must be taken into 
account. The portrait is of value only as it represents the regu- 
larity of his features. On the other hand Vouzin has a number 
of tics, which are like so many stigmata added to a normal anat- 
omy. He almost constantly emits gutteral sounds; he moves 
a quantity of saliva about in his mouth; when seated, he sways 
his body backv/ards and forwards; frequently he looks at the 
ends of his fingers with flitting attention. All these tics seem 
to us explainable in part in the same way as those of certain blind 
persons; they are motor tendencies which might arise, under very 
exceptional conditions, among normals; but normals arrest and 
suppress them. The blind do not succeed in suppressing them, 
because they do not see them, and are therefore unconscious 
of their existence. Thus a blind musician shows an expression 
of suffering when he is executing a difficult passage. The idiot 
does not suppress these tics for various reasons. In the first 
place, although being able to perceive them, he has not enough 
intelligence to realize that such actions are not proper. Again, 
certain tics are probably uncontrollable. Finally the number 
of tics and their peculiarities are the expression of a particular 
condition of the nervous system. 

We photographed Vouzin in an enclosure surrounded by a 
wooden paling; this had for us almost a symbolic value, our idiot 
being confined like an animal in the zoological garden. Almost 
in spite of ourselves we compare him to an animal whose training 
has just commenced. If you call him he comes; if he is in the 
house, he runs whenever a door is opened; he presents himself 
at the door to see who is entering, showing us the naive curiosity 
of an animal. If one says "good day" to him, holding out the 
hand, he does not reply verbally, for he does not know how to 
speak, but he understands the significance of the extended hand; 
he gives j'ou a finger, only one, which would be, in another, a lack 
of culture or intended disdain, but is only awkwardness in him. 
If an object is presented to him, sometimes he does not take it, 
sometimes on the contrary he seizes it with an awkward gesture; 
he holds his hand flat, with the fingers close together. One would- 
say that he was expecting to receive a penny in the palm of his 
hand. At other times he does not use his hands or arms, which 



16 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



he allows to hang awkwardly at his side; if food is offered, ho 
thrusts his mouth forward to seize it reminding one of an animal. 
Figure 2 represents him in one of these attitudes. Vouzin did 
not take this pose in response to a command, but spontaneously. 
Furthermore, he does not understand a verbal order so compli- 
cated as this. His prehension is extremely defective; if an object 
is presented to him, he holds it in his hand; if a second is offered 




FIG. 2. ONE PRESENTS A BISCUIT TO THE IDIOT VOL ZIX, WHO INSTEAD OF 
TAKING IT WITH HIS HAND. PUTS FORWARD HIS MOUTH AND TAKES IT ANI- 
MAL FASHION. 

he takes it without letting go the first. A third object is received 
in the same way and so on and on, without his ever having the 
idea of ridding himself of them by depositing the objects on a 
table. 

Vouzin is obedient. If an order is given him by gestures, he 
can execute it. When he is seated, he understands the gesture 
which orders him to stand up; when he is standing if we show him 
a chair and invite him to be seated, he understands and seats 



CHARACTER OF IDIOTS 



17 



himself abruptly, folding his legs under the chair with an awk- 
ward movement. 

If Vouzin's cap is taken off his head and he is told to go and 
hunt it, he does so without remonstrance, finds his cap and puts 
it on his head. We repeat the same play a dozen times. In 
the end, Vouzin shows a timid resistance; he leans his head away 
from us to save his cap; but he does not defend himself with his 




FIG. 3. CRETIN, YOUNG IMBECILE OF MIDDLE GRADE, OF SEVENTEEN 
YEARS. SHE CAN TELL HER NAME, SEX, POINT TO HER NOSE, BUT CANNOT 
COMPARE TWO WEIGHTS, COPY A SQUARE NOR COUNT FOUR SOUS. CHAR- 
ACTER REBELLIOUS. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL FOUR YEARS. 



hands nor does he get up to go away from us. If his cap is hid- 
den before his eyes under a pile of books, he will go and get it. 
We placed his cap upon the horizontal bar of a measuring rod. 
He refused to go and take it and shook his head as a sign of ne- 
gation. Was he afraid? It is possible. In any case, at last 
he rebelled. But he is far from rebellious in the same way as 
little M — — , a turbulent young idiot, six years of age whom a 



18 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

skin disease has left completely bald. She enters our office 
without looking at us and walks up and down grinding her teeth. 
We draw near to her and hand her a biscuit. She takes it with 
a quick movement, and throws it on the ground. Many other 
objects offered to her have the same fate; they are taken, then 
thrown forcibly to the ground. The child in doing this does 
not express any anger. Furthermore her face remains totally 
inexpressive. She spends her time putting her hands in her 
mouth and grinding her teeth. We try to awaken some feeling 
in her, and we put our fist under her nose, but she does not seem 
to understand this mimicry, at all events she remains impassive. 
We follow her into the room. She goes hap-hazard, seats her- 
self in a corner and fixes upon us a voluntary gaze; then seeing 
a chair in front of her she turns it over without saying a word. 
A little farther on she encounters an apron placed upon a chair; 
she takes the apron and throws it on the ground. She next 
finds a basket containing a biscuit; she takes the biscuit and 
throws it away; one is obliged to watch her to prevent her from 
destroying fragile objects. 

Thus here are two idiots one of whom is gentle enough, while 
the other is a disagreeable example of a rebellious subject. 

Characters of Imbeciles and Morons 

There are the same distinctions in imbeciles and morons; 
there are imbeciles who are docile, who execute the orders given 
to them and from whom we obtain their best in the diverse experi- 
ments to which we subject them; and there are others who sub- 
mit to nothing, who are rebellious, and who do not wish to exe- 
cute any of our orders, and who out of ill-will reply, "I do not 
know," to all our questions. One must be well aware of the exist- 
ence of these two types of character and their psychological 
significance. 

Let us cite several examples which will show the great variety 
of characters that may be included under the same term. Among 
the rebellious we note Cretin, an imbecile of twenty who has 
the fierce air of an untamed animal, who is always on the defen- 
sive, distrusts us, is afraid of us, and at every moment wishes 
to get away. When she rises it is almost impossible to make 
her sit down again. Beauvisage. another imbecile of twenty, 



CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 



19 



but of a somewhat higher degree than the other (middle grade im- 
becile), shows very much the same savage, timid character; 
she is nevertheless rather less surly, and is more easily made to 
weep. When the measurement of her head was to be taken, 
she became alarmed, refused to come, beginning to cry; it finally 
required two sous to make her decide to submit to this harmless 
operation. Duguet, another imbecile woman of the same men- 




FIG. 4, BEAUVISAGE, YOUNG IMBECILE OF HIGH GRADE, AGED TWENTY 
YEARS. SHE CAN COUNT FOUR SOUS, COMPARE TWO WEIGHTS, DO THREE 
ERRANDS, ETC. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF SIX YEARS. 



tal level as Beauvisage, and older than she, evinced no emotion 
that could properly be called fear. She smiled constantly, a 
simpering sort of smile, and when asked to do the easiest test 
invariably replied, "Don't know," then began to laugh, plung- 
ing her head into her arms. Nevertheless she would generally 
be able to reply if she made the slightest effort. Another example 
is Galiard, a moron, who suffers from attacks of epilepsy and 



20 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



who, after one of these attacks, completely changed her attitude 
towards us. In the beginning she seemed eager and full of interest 
in spite of a little intellectual apathy. But after her attacks 
her character changed; she is taciturn, diagreeable, scarcely 
replying to our questions, and then only in monosyllables, and 
when we insist, she pretends to be looking elsewhere. 

Here is still another example, but of a very different sort; 
Laraz^, a young girl of fourteen, who is almost normal as regards 




FIG. 



LARAZfi, YOUNG GIRL OF FOURTEEN, NORMAL INTELLIGENCE, 
BUT UNSTABLE. 



intelligence, but who has been confined because of ''perversion des 
instincts." She is a singular person, with no apparent intellec- 
tual deficiency. She is quick of speech, makes sensible replies, 
in marked contrast with the mute stupidity of our habitual 
defectives. She responds to all our little attempts, she is there- 
fore not rebellious in the proper sense of the word. Neverthe- 
less she is of a peculiar character, as we can see from her his- 



CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 



21 



tory outside of the institution. She has been in thirty-six places, 
leaving each time impulsively and finally she was imprisoned 

at F for an escapade about which she does not care to talk. 

In the institution she is noisy, and in the way; with us she is 
far too familiar and says anything that passes through her head. 
One day when we had made her believe that she could not so 




FIG. 6. PROFILE OF LARAZfi. 



quickly get away, she became over-excited. "I am going to 

write to Judge M. X to let me have my liberty, and if he 

doesn't give it to me I will do him harm, or I will kill myself, 
but I'll harm him first. Rather than live in misery like they 
make me live here I'll break everything, I'll pick up anything 
I can lay hands on, to strike him in the mouth. Give me paper 



22 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

SO I can write to him." It required the greatest effort to calm 
her and to prove to her that saying such stupid things to the 
judge would be a very poor way to obtain her freedom. She seems 
at such moments, incapable of reasoning. It is an intelligence 
which does not resist emotional stress, she is like a compass 
which the storm has turned so that it no longer points true; 
it is here in these disorders of intelligence produced by frequent 
emotions that we must look for a definition of the state known 
under the name of mental instability. 

It can thus be seen from this simple enumeration through 
how many shades the rebellious character passes. In regard to 
this it is curious and even important to remark that the resist- 
ance of subjects to the tests does not show itself with the same 
violence for all. There are certain ones which they always 
refuse to do, and others to which they submit more willingly. 
In this they resemble normals. A normal, ordinarily very un- 
willing, submits to any test which appeals to his vanity. There 
ai'e many who consent to read out loud but who are not willing 
to sing, etc. With imbeciles, we have noticed the following 
facts : the most rebellious do not in general refuse to do the tests 
which require no effort, like naming a color or a piece of money; 
they do not refuse to judge weights or lines; they do not refuse 
to copy a figure with a pencil. But tests which require an effort, 
for example to repeat figures, or better still, those which require 
an effort of invention, as finding the most words possible in three 
or five minutes, are repugnant to them. 

But since the tests requiring the most effort and containing the 
most serious difficulties belong to the higher degrees' of our 
scale of intelligence, an important consequence for the measure 
of intelligence results, which is that the rebellious are likely to 
respond only to the lower tests and are therefore judged less 
intelligent than they really are. The character which is rebel- 
lious, sulky, sullen, in a word who is unwilling to submit to our 
psychological tests, produces the effect of an apparent abase- 
ment of intellectual level and causes us to underestimate such 
individuals. 

Let us now pass to the docile group; they are perhaps less 
varied than the rebellious. First notice Denise, a low grade 
imbecile, a short little woman of twenty-five years with small 
black eyes brilliant and mobile, who is extremely pleasant. The 



CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 



23 



moment she enters the office, she holds out her hand and begins 
to laugh, showing her beautiful white teeth. She laughs at 
everything and nothing; she is very docile, even affectionate. 
The first time that she saw us she was less exuberant, more res- 
pectful, wished to kiss the hand that we held out to her; little 




FIG. 7. DENISE, IMBECILE OF LOW GRADE, AGE TWENTY-SIX YEARS. SHE 
UNDERSTANDS LANGUAGE BUT DOES NOT SPEAK MORE THAN THREE OR 
FOUR WORDS. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF TWO AND ONE-HALF YEARS. 



by little she began to feel at home, got up and sat down as it 
pleased her, laughed continually with an air of mockery, and on 
one occasion became so familiar as to attempt to tickle us under 
the chin. But if strange visitors enter the room where we are, 
she immediately collects herself, remains in her chair without 
saying anything, watches them seriously, even with some dis- 



24 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

trust, and does not abandon herself to her halntual foolish laughter 
before them even when encouraged to do so. 

Victor, a middle grade imbecile of fifty, has more gravity, 
especially in the beginning, but is equally docile. Little by lit- 
tle he grew familiar with us, to the point of losing his sense of 
propriety; at the end of the second interview, seeing that one 
of us asked him difficult questions, he addressed his questioner 




FIG. 8. DENISE MIMICKING SHE IMITATES, WHILE LAUGHING, ALL THE 
GESTURES THAT ONE MAKES IN FRONT OF HER. 

in these terms, 'Hoi ficelle'^ and seeing that we laughed he ac- 
quired the habit of this familiarity. Another time we asked him 
to notice and afterwards to recount all that we had done before 
him. This game amused him; on seeing us take from the table 
an object which we ostentatiously put in our pocket, he sprang 
forward seizing our arm and crying, ''Tai vu, ficelle, .... 
Toute au clou," and similar expressions. In spite of these tran- 
sient familiarities he remains always respectful and perfectly 
willing to try our experiments. 



CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 



25 



The deference of Albert is still more marked, and he is one of 
our most brilliant imbeciles. We have never found a more docile 
school boy, nor one more submissive. Never a movement of 
impatience, an expression of weariness nor fatigue. Albert 
would be a model laboratory subject, such as foreign psychological 
laboratories made a specialty of some time ago. 

Finally a moron. Griffon, carries his willingness to the point 
of servilitv. 




FIG. 9. VICTOR, IMBliOim OF FIFTY-THREE YEARS, WHO HAS THE 
INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF A CHILD OF FIVE YEARS. 



It must not be thought that deference is necessarily a sign 
of good will or of altruism. We are informed that Griffon, so 
docile with us, is a frank egotist in his family. When one of his 
relatives comes to see him at the institution, he immediately 
holds out his hand to the new arrival to take what has been 
brought for him. 

Docility and rebelliousness take on an abnormal character only 
when they are in excess. Docility and rebelliousness are pri- 



26 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

marily social qualities, because they manifest themselves when 
an individual enters into relation with his kind, and they have 
someone outside themselves for their principal object. The 
equivalents of these qualities are found among the majority of 
people; they are qualities which should be considered normal. 
Among ordinary individuals they may often be the result of 
calculation or after-thought, or they may manifest themselves 
chiefly in response to certain persons or certain events. Our 
observation of defectives shows us that, although these qualities 
may vary somewhat a,ccording to the individuals and the occa- 
sions which are the exciting causes, they correspond to the gen- 
eral disposition, giving the tone to all the reactions of the indivi- 
dual; they have therefore a deep source and a fundamental char- 
acter. In a word, it is not toward a certain person that the 

idiot M is snappish and ugly, she is that toward all 

and in a perfectly constant way. Albert — — , on the contrary, 
is charming toward everybody although he may have a particular 
fondness for certain persons. 

We notice that these social feelings are distinctive among de- 
fectives only on account of their strength; and it is this which 
marks them subnormal. There are docile and restive persons 
among those with whom we rub elbows every day of our lives, 
but they hold their feelings in better control than do the imbeciles. 
We cited a short time ago the young idiot who did not even look 
at us but broke everything that came in her way. This degree 
of turbulency has in itself something abnormal. A school child 
who acted thus with his master, who neither obeyed nor listened, 
who laughed at authority, who was ugly with his comrades, 
would be looked upon as an abnormal, incorrigible child. At 
this moment the public schools are trying to rid themselves of 
such children by sending them to special classes. In the same 
way the extreme docility of certain subjects is characteristic 
of the typical defectives. One must be an imbecile to carry 
amiability beyond certain limits, but since excess in this line 
does not annoy others, it is not so often noticed; thus in the 
school no one ever complains that a child is too docile; and prob- 
ably this excess of docility is often taken for application to work, 
and is favorably judged as a sign of attention. Here again the 
study of the defective brings each thing to a focus, and permits 
us to see in the excess of the quality a sign of abnormality. 



CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 27 

As a conclusion to all these observations, we must admit that 
there is no relation between these different types of character 
and any certain mental level. We find rebellious and also docile 
beings at every degree of defectiveness. 

This proposition is contrary to an idea which is actually very 
widespread. A contemporary has defined "idiot" as an extra- 
social being and "imbecile" as an anti-social being. These are 
curious and suggestive definitions which have been so success- 
ful that they have passed from the medical domain to the do- 
main of philosophy. One finds them today reproduced in some 
classic manuals of philosophy, which gives them indeed supreme 
sanctity. In our opinion the truth is less simple than this. 

An extra-social being is one who lives on the margin of society 
because he is incapable of adapting himself to it. It is clear 
that idiots are more extra-social than imbeciles, because their 
intellectual level is lower. But social adaptation is not in any 
sense a faculty; it is a result; and that result depends upon many 
factors besides that of intellectual level. These factors are: 
the surroundings, the famity, the financial condition, etc. We 
have met a low grade imbecile who was nearly capable of adapt- 
ing himself for he earned a franc a day blowing the bellows of 
a forge; while some imbeciles of higher grade, and consequently 
much more intelligent, could not gain a Livelihood for themselves. 
In that which concerns the quality anti-social, we shall make 
not only some reservations, but some criticisms upon the appli- 
cation of this term to the imbecile alone. This is a quality which 
depends upon character; it consists in being rebellious and even 
harmful, but we believe and we have demonstrated, that among 
imbeciles there are quite as many docile as rebellious ones, and 
that these individuals do not deserve therefore to be classed as 
a whole and without distinction among the anti-social. The 
character has no relation to the intellectual level. 

One day there was a discussion in regard to a piece of decora- 
tion to be placed in a public square. No agreement could be 
reached. An architect came upon the scene and said, "Nothing 
is sometimes a good thing in architecture." This is equally 
true in psychiatry. In the place of these beautiful expressions 
of extra-social and anti-social, we shall put nothing; there is 
nothing to put. 



II. ATTENTION CONSIDERED FROM THE POINT 
OF VIEW OF ITS CONCENTRATION 

Many erroneous statements have been made in regard to the 
attention of defectives. Some have claimed that the idiot is 
absolutely lacking in attention, that he is an imbecile without 
attention, in a word, that it is the failure of attention which 
produces the idiot. Other authors have objected to this. The 
attention of idiots they say is not reduced to zero; there exists 
a little, a very little to be sure, but there is more in the imbecile 
and still more in the moron. 

We shall treat this question of attention by a very different 
method. We do not like these distinctions of little and much; 
and we cannot see what advantages would be gained by prov- 
ing that the attention is better among morons than among im- 
beciles. This distinction is not false, but the idea is so vague 
that it is scarcely worthy of an attendant in a hospital. We 
shall endeavor to analyze the state of attention in idiots, imbe- 
ciles, and morons, and we hope to be able to show the precise 
characteristics by which the attention of an idiot — because he 
undeniably has attention — differs from that of an imbecile. The 
characteristic to which we shall attach the most importance is 
that of the concentration of the attention. We shall ask our- 
selves, (1) Can the attention of this subject be excited, awakened, 
and fixed upon a particular point? (2) Can this attention 
once attracted be held for a certain time? (3) If a cause of 
distraction occurs, and the attention is diverted, can it spon- 
taneously return to the first object which it quitted? (4) Can 
it even resist the cause of distraction, and remain fixed upon the 
same object, in spite of all influences which would turn it aside? 
These are the four degrees which we shall study, and which cor- 
respond to an ever higher and higher organization of the attention. 

Let us being with idiots. We shall again mention Vouzin , 

the young idiot of twenty years in whom we have especially studied 
the phenomena of attention during a whole sitting. We have 
said before that his character is docile. Except on very rare 

28 



CONCENTRAnON OF ATTENTION 29 

occasions he shows no resistance to the orders given him. But 
what can he do in the way of attention? 

Let us consider him as he is seated by our side. He is not at 
all attentive, he does not look at us. His glance wanders from 
one object to another without fixing itself upon any. Vouzin 
resembles a person who is waiting for his turn in the reception 
room of a doctor or dentist, and remains in almost absolute 
idleness, the attention relaxed, the look wandering. From time 
to time, there is produced in him a brief act of attention without 
our intervention. For example: we turn before him the handle 
of a music box, which produces a strong grinding sound. Greatly 
perplexed by the sound, Vouzin seizes the music box and turns 
the handle as he has seen us do in order to produce the same 
sound, but very soon abandons this. When we wish to again 
attract his attention, we have considerable trouble. He does 
not look at us when we call. We are obliged to shout, to make 
violent gestures in order to attract his attention which is ex- 
tremely fleeting. His look rests upon us for a moment, then 
we continue to call and gesticulate in vain. Vouzin looks over 
our shoulder into the depths of the court where absolutely nothing 
is going on. Another example: we give Vouzin a biscuit and 
let him eat a part of it, then we take it away and holding the 
end of the biscuit in our hand under his nose, we walk backwards. 
Quite naturally Vouzin looks at the biscuit and follows it, tak- 
ing a few steps and making a little guttural cry, but very soon his 
look wanders; he fixes it elsewhere and acts as though he had 
forgotten the biscuit. It is not even a passing distraction; he 
goes elsewhere, and bothers himself no more about us, nor does 
he return to us. On the contrary we are obliged to go and hunt 
him, to put the biscuit again under his nose to make him con- 
sent to look at it. If he were normal, this falling off of atten- 
tion might be explained by preoccupation or distraction or by 
a particular attitude. Show a biscuit to a school-boy, and then 
move away and it is not likely that he would follow you. Even 
a normal boy of the primary school would be a little ashamed to 
follow you, thus showing that he was obeying a gluttonous de- 
sire. But it is evident that Vouzin is not held back by any com- 
plex motive. This is the advantage of these inferior brains that 
all secondary and disturbing factors are suppressed in them. 
For this reason the psychology of the idiot would be so profitable 



30 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

if one could fathom it. It is evident that Vouzin shows no sus- 
tained attention even for that which is of most interest for him, 
food. He acts in a more senseless manner than a dog to whom 
one shows a lump of sugar. The dog, if he is fond of sugar, 
stops and looks at it; it does not hold his attention indefinitely; 
now and then he turns his head, looks elsewhere as though he 
had a moment of distraction, or need of rest, but soon his look 
comes back spontaneously to the lump of sugar. With the. 
animal there is a particular orientation of the attention which 
persists in spite of its temporary lapses. It is this persistence 
that Vouzin lacks. Strictly speaking, it is not a fault of memory, 
that is to say a fault of reproduction after an interval of forget- 
fulness; it is a more elementary process, consisting in the per- 
sistence of a direction. It is a question of always returning to 
the same state, of following the same direction, and Vouzin 
cannot do it. 

We find in him therefore a weakness of the power of attention, 
which manifests itself by the following signs; it is difficult to 
arouse his attention, and more difficult still to hold it. We 
may say that he attains the first degree of concentration of the 
attention with very little fixation. 

A means of reinforcing the attention of an idiot. Nevertheless, 
quite by chance we encountered a situation where Vouzin gave 
us quite prolonged attention instead of forgetting us. This is 
true when we give him orders to execute. We have said before 
that he executed the order to sit down when shown a chair with 
an imperious gesture. We complicate the orders by putting 
five or six chairs in a circle. Then standing like an animal tamer, 
we give our orders with a gesture of the hand, and Vouzin seats 
himself successively in all the chairs. He shows no desire to 
resist, and goes the round of the circle of chairs three or four times, 
which makes him repeat the act of sitting some fifteen times. 
But we are obliged to give him an order before each act; if we 
do not renew the gesture, he remains seated and does not get 
the idea of taking the next chair. We remark again how much 
his dociHty depends upon the intensity of the gesture. If we 
are two meters from him or if we are seated, circumstances which 
obviously diminish the energy of our order, Vouzin does not 
execute it. 

In this connection we recall having proved some time back 



CONCENTEATION OF ATTENTION 31 

that when a suggestion to a hysteria patient is given in a soft 
voice, or with only a slightly imperative word, the order is only 
partially executed. 

It can thus be seen that the mental relation estabUshed be- 
tween Vouzin and ourselves is prolonged when we cause him 
to execute successive acts in a series. This is a means of exerting 
a power over his intelligence. This resembles the pedagogical 
procedure of La Martiniere who keeps the pupil moving in order 
to make him attentive.^ 

It is undeniable that the imbecile and the moron are more 
attentive to us, to our gestures, and above all to our words than 
the idiot is, and this is easily explained. They understand our 
words, while an idiot does not. The principal indication, wholly 
external, of this difference in the power of attention is that the 
imbecile is capable of assuming the attitude of a well-behaved pupil 
in school. He hstens when we speak to him, remains seated, 
often looks at us with deference; remains at our disposal, and 
does what we ask of him; with this condition, it must be under- 
stood, that in character he belongs to the docile type. This 
external difference between the idiot and the imbecile, does not 
strikingly manifest itself unless one has taken pains to isolate 
the subject in a room where the causes of distraction are not 
numerous. Let us say first of all that the attention of the im- 
becile is more easily aroused and sustained than that of the idiot. 
This is the translation into psychological language of this obser- 
vation which we have just made upon the attitude of a well 
behaved pupU. Let us suppose now that a cause of distraction 
is produced. A door opens while we are talking with our imbecile 
and a person enters the room. Or perhaps an attendant passes 
in the court before us. What becomes of the attention of our 
imbecile? The result depends upon his intellectual level. Denise 
is a low grade imbecile. She understands well enough what we 
say although she scarcely knows how to talk. She is very at- 

' Thus a multiplication is given to a class to do on their slates. As soon 
as each pupil finishes, he leaves his place, goes to the desk, shows his slate 
to the professor, who tells him if his result is correct or false; all those 
whose results are correct line up on the right, those incorrect on the left. 
These comings and goings, which have the sanction of the intellectual 
work, augment its interest and hold the mind active, on the condition of 
course that the change of place is not permitted to be the occasion of 
disorder. 



32 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

tentive in general to all that we say to her, but her attention is 
of short duration. For instance the window offers an attraction 
for her. She never fails to turn her head as soon as the door of 
the ofl&ce opens. She wishes to see who enters, and in that case, 
she forgets us, because after having looked at the door her atten- 
tion does not retui-n to us. This is a lack of good manners of 
which she is wholly unaware. It is for the same reason that she 
vigorously scratches her head, and puts all the fingers possible 
in her nose, even in our presence. Does she belong to the idiot 
class? No, not altogether, because even though her attention 
is fleeting and without spontaneous return, one can easily enough 
govern this attention, and make it return to its point of depar- 
ture. Denise passes quite easily the first two degrees of attention. 

Nothing is more variable than the adaptation which attention 
presupposes. But we believe in a general way that the four 
degrees which we have just distinguished are a measure of in- 
tellectual level. Thus we have distinctive characteristics with 
a definite meaning upon which it is possible to agree; while such 
expressions as "little attention," "much attention" which we wish 
to abolish, have so to speak no precise sense at all. 

Finally; the species of attention which we have just studied, 
might be called social attention. It is this which we try to arouse 
and which has for its object ourselves, our personality. We 
have not spoken of attention to food, nor of a host of other species 
of attention, because we have made our observation and experiment 
only in our office, and because to have studied other species of 
attention would require a larger field of observation. It will 
suffice here to note the difference between the two questions. 
We have established a hierarchy in the concentration of atten- 
tion; we can establish similarly a hierarchy among the objects 
which provoke and retain the attention, according as the acts 
which result are more or less useful to the individual or to the 
species. It is from this last point of view that in general one 
must judge if a person has or has not attention. When the ob- 
ject of his attention is frivolous, one says that he is not attentive. 
A school boy who passes his time catching flies is very justly 
called inattentive; he is attentive to the flies, but not attentive 
to the lesson which would be infinitely more profitable to him 
if he listened to it. One judges also of the attention of a per- 
son according to the difficulty of the acts of attention of which 



CONCENTRATION OF ATTENTION 33 

he is capable. Attention to ideas, or more properly speaking 
reflection, is more difficult than attention to external objects 
and consequently the mathematician, attentive to his problem 
of calculation, appears to us to exercise greater attention than 
the booby who with open mouth looks at what is going on in 
the street. We have made a special point of recalling these 
distinctions and phenomena, to show that the appreciation of 
the degrees of attention, and a hierarchy of these degrees is not 
a simple thing, and that in this work on defectives we have only 
had in view a single one of the numerous distinctions which might 
be made. This one which we have proposed on the different 
degrees of concentration of attention, seems to us one of the most 
convenient to follow in a rapid study made upon the intelligence 
of defectives. 



III. VOLUNTARY EFFORT 

The thing which dominates the whole question is that defectives 
are incapable of voluntary effort in every domain; imbeciles can 
remain attentive, but it is an attention which is not acute nor 
very active. When it requires more than an attitude of atten- 
tion, one sees that they cannot succeed. Their faces, moreover, 
never express effort, and their brows have no vertical wrinkles. 
Among the tests which put in clear light this incapacity for 
strong attention, we shall study: 

1. The time of reaction, where the voluntary effort consists 
in replying as quickly as possible to a signal. This is a volun- 
tary psycho-motor effort. 

2. The tests of quickness of movements, with the voluntary 
effort of moving as quickly as possible. 

3. Tests consisting in calling up the greatest possible number 
of words, tests where the voluntary effort bears upon the power 
of calling up ideas. 

4. The immediate repetition of figures, where one makes a 
voluntary effort to retain in the memory elements which are 
fleeting. 

One could devise many other tests where the effort of attention 
would be shown; for example, the operation with money, cal- 
culation, or the simple act of counting backwards; but we have 
eliminated these tests, because they presupppose a certain 
degree of instruction, and one could not make them with all 
defectives. Those which we have chosen have the advantage 
of being suitable for the most ignorant of ignoramuses. 

Every voluntary effort sets two factors at work; for the pres- 
sure of the dynamometer, there is the force of contraction of the 
muscles, and there is the effort of will; in the same way, for the 
calling up of words, the number of words found depends at the 
same time upon the extent of the vocabulary, and the effort put 
forth. One could say the same of the repetition of figures; the 
memory of figures works with the effort of attention. It results 
from this that the total result does not depend solely upon the 

34 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 35 

factor of voluntary effort. If for example a person has a good 
memory for figures he could repeat a great number without being 
obliged to make an effort. Thus an isolated experiment of a 
single kind would be difficult to interpret and one would be in 
doubt as to what part each of the two factors played. To guide 
this interpretation it is necessary to explore the voluntary effort 
in several different fields, muscles, speech, memory. It is thus 
that one arrives at the realization that a defective is incapable 
of an intense and continued voluntary effort. 

Posing for a Photograph. Let us begin by citing a very simple 
observation. We wished to photograph most of our subjects 
in order to have more examples and we attempted to pose them. 
A person that can be posed for a photograph must be capable 
of some slight effort, since it is necessary to keep the body mo- 
tionless during several seconds. Not all of our imbeciles are 
capable of remaining motionless and we were obliged to make 
snap shots for the lowest grade cases. As for the idiots, it was 
of no avail to tell them to keep quiet, not to stir — they did not 
obey the command. Middle grade imbeciles like Victor and 
Cretin, and the high grade imbecile, Albert, could keep a re- 
markable immobility of body; they showed only a slight tendency 
to move the eyes; their glance wandered from right to left, as 
though that was the part of the body most difficult to render 
immovable. 

This little observation of a photographer only shows the diffi- 
culty which our defectives have in making an effort. Now we 
give more demonstrative and particularly more analytical exam- 
ples. 

The quickness of movement. Quickness is a motor quality, 
in which the effect of attention is best seen. It is for this reason 
that we have chosen it as a means of measuring the attention. 
The instrument which we use is simply a music box which one 
plays by turning a handle. Fifty turns are necessary to produce 
the complete melody. One listens, watch in hand, and the 
time divided by 50 gives the necessary time for one revolution; 
it is very convenient and quite inexpensive. Slight preliminary 
exercises proved to us that one can with a little effort turn the 
50 revolutions of the handle in 10 seconds, which makes the time 
for one revolution two-tenths of a second. 

With our defectives we are obHged to encourage them con- 



36 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

tinually. We repeat a great number of times, "faster, faster." 
The duration is constantly longer than among normals, being 
from 15 to 30 seconds. They have never reached the record 
of 10 seconds. Besides if the handle is turned so that the same 
air is repeated several times they do not gain in speed. Thus 
Cabussel gives the following succession of periods; 17", 20", 
23", 20". Even if we admit that the duration of 23" was pro- 
duced accidentally by an awkward movement, it is none the 
less true that he loses in speed instead of gaining. The same 
observation holds good for Duneize 14" 14,", 18", and it is, 
moreover, easy to explain. It is not likely that the cause is fatigue 
so much as it is lack of emulation. It does not interest them to 
turn the handle; they do not put into it any "amour-propre" 
as a normal would willingly do. Never have we heard an imbecile 
make a joyous exclamation, nor utter a word which indicated 
in him the desire to succeed. In this indifferent attitude one 
sees in strong relief their inability to give themselves wholly 
to any experiment. Imbeciles are not sports. 

Time of reaction. When one wishes to make rapid reactions 
in from ten to twelve hundredths of a second, it does not suffice 
to remain sitting passively awaiting a signal; one must picture 
to one's self the signal before it is given; one must also prepare 
one's muscle, and put it in a state of tension. All this prepara- 
tion, at once the ideational and motor — thanks to which one is 
like a charged cannon on the point of exploding — demands a 
great effort, and this effort is painful. One cannot maintain 
it long; there are successive oscillations in the attention thus 
over-stimulated; now it is fixed, now it relaxes. Let us see how 
our defectives behave. Albert has great diSiculty in under- 
standing that he must close his eyes, wait for the signal and make 
his movement in response to the signal as quickly as possible. It 
was necessary to repeat to him each time "raise your hand," 
(so that he would be ready to respond) "close your eyes," "pay 
attention." He held the lever waiting for the response with 
the greatest awkwardness, and many reactions had to be dis- 
carded because he did not succeed in shutting off the current. 
The most striking feature in this series of reactions is that they 
are extremely long. They attain an average of 50 hundredths 
of a second, while the reaction of a normal adult requires only 
from 15 to 20 hundredths. We did our best to excite Albert, 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 37 

scolding him and ordering him to go faster. All our attempts 
were useless, and failed to obtain any appreciable increase of 
speed. His attention has therefore much less strength than 
one would have believed. He has the physical attitude of volun- 
tary attention, and in external appearance he resembles an at- 
tentive pupil. But a school child has a more rapid reaction 
time. So what characterizes the attention of an imbecile is 
that it has the outward semblance, and a certain duration, since 
it may continue during several hours. What is lacking is depth. 
"W - h the moron Griffon we encountered in the beginning the 
same difficulties of explanation. In the first experiments some- 
times he would react before the signal; again, when it was given 
he would not attempt to react until a considerable time had 
elapsed. And every time the same orders had to be given, "raise 
the hand," ''close the eyes," "attention," but after a time he 
adapted himself and made more rapid reactions than Albert. 
Here is the series: 



105 


30 


20 


anticipated 


28 


46 (Faster!) 


160 


40 


18 


anticipated 


40 


22 


72 


45 


17 


anticipated 


50 (Faster!) 


26 


anticipated 


24 


32 


forgotten 


43 (Faster!) 


33 


120 


19 


43 


29 


20 





These last figures tend to approach those of normal subjects. 
We remark in passing that Griffon is able when required, to make 
an effort of acceleration. If one says "Faster!", the following 
reaction is always shorter. Albert does not succeed in this. 

Supplementary to the experiments made with Albert and 
Griffon, let us give that which we made with the young Beauvisage. 
She had in her hands the same apparatus; the same means were 
taken to prepare her, we gave her the same explanations repeat- 
ing them a great number of times. 

Here is the series of reactions that were obtained: 



38 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



75" 


neglect 


anticipated 


1'45" 


1'15" 


2' 


65" 


anticipated 


4' 


52" 


1' 


4' 


anticipated 


4' 


4'50" 


neglect 


neglect 


3' 



These singular results have but one point of interest which 
is to show how the rebellious type of imbecile behaves. One 
would commit a singular error in supposing that Beauvisage 
gives here all the attention of which she is capable, and in ac- 
counting for her slow reaction by her intellectual level. The 
comparison with Albert prevents this error. These are the re- 
actions of a sullen girl and not of an imbecile mentality. Fur- 
thermore we have been able to assure ourselves of this by the 
following means. The experimenter who had taken the series 
of reactions cited above was replaced by another whose age and 
familiarity with the technique gave him greater advantage. 
The times of reaction obtained by him were better, and this 
proves, let it be said in passing, that in certain cases the personality 
of the experimenter influences the rapidity of the reaction of a sub- 
ject. Here are some of these new reactions; they are about a half 
minute while the preceding ones generally exceed two minutes. 

46" anticipated anticipated 

65" 43" 45" 

There are no more cases of neglect and the time is very much 
reduced. We cite these facts first because they show curiously 
the influence of an attitude, and more than this they prove that 
in spite of the precision of figures, the times of reaction, like all 
other psychological measurements, have only a relative value. 

On the whole the times of simple reactions are longer with 
defectives than with normals, even when they thoroughly under- 
stand the experiment and know what is wanted of them. This 
proves that the times of reaction remain, in grave cases, a good 
measure of the attention. 

Calling up of the maximum number of words in a given time. 
"You are going to say the greatest number of words possible; 
you can say any words, the first that come to your mind, words 
like hat, house, etc. I am going to give you the signal. 'Now.' " 

After this explanation which one repeats several times in order 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 39 

to impress it, the normal subject can find in 3 minutes a hundred 
words; the number varies as can be easily understood according 
to a niunber of conditions. The principal of these are: First, a 
general condition, good will, emulation, zeal, courage, etc. Second, a 
more special condition, the extent of the vocabulary; this we learned 
from extended investigation among normals. On the whole 
this test is as good as the dynamometer, or the chronometer. 
It measures the effort, but an effort bearing upon a special object, 
the awakening of ideas. This is a sort of dynamometer of ver- 
bal ideation. 

How do our defectives behave? However lacking they may 
be in intelligence, they possess in their heads more than two 
thousand words, at least high grade imbeciles and morons do. 
It might therefore be expected that they would easily pass this 
test, which does not require great intelligence. Far from it, 
however. They show the greatest possible signs of distress, and 
thus demonstrate their inability to make the effort of ideation. 
The effort which they cannot make with their muscles they can- 
not make any better with their verbal imagination. 

Note first Beauvisage, high grade imbecile, but rebellious in 
character, who did not like this test at all. She could not bring 
herself to hunt for words; she cited after us "picture" and then 
added "table." That was the end. She declared that she could 
find none. It was impossible to obtain another word even at 
the end of 3 minutes. It is evident that this was a case of ill- 
will and had nothing to do with the intellectual level. Albert, 
high grade imbecile who is full of good will, did all in his power 
to please us, but was unable to find more than 20 words in 3 
minutes. He often repeated "I don't know any more," and 
yet this was not because he was short of words, for if we carried 
on the experiment for 6 minutes more he found 41, We inter- 
pret this small number of 20 words as a proof of the weakness of 
his voluntary power. 

Duneize, middle grade imbecile, cited 18 words; she often 
repeated the same ones (of which we kept no count). 

Galiard, low grade moron, who was also very willing, but who 
was intellectually apathetic, succeeded less well; in 3 minutes 
she gives only 17 words. 

Let us cite also Griffon, another moron, whose vocabulary is 
well developed. We were not able to obtain from him more than 
22 words. 



40 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

On the whole the number of words cited by our defectives is 
inferior to that of normals. There are, however, exceptions. 
One of these is Cabussel, a high grade imbecile of some thirty- 
years. 

Cabussel is microcephalic' 

He is like the greater number of microcephalics, interesting 
on account of the vivacity of his manners, and above all by his 
loquacity. Whatever question is put to him, he enters im- 
mediately, almost without reflection, into endless details which 
generally are for the purpose of boasting of his own ability. 

We had supposed that in spite of this abundant verbosity, 
Cabussel would be incapable of calling up voluntarily a great 
number of words. We were mistaken. He willingly accepted 
om" invitation, and said to us with his habitual harmless vanity, 
"Ah, that's what I know, words," and in fact he cited 30 in 3 
minutes, which is a great number for an imbecile. We inter- 
pret this result in the following manner: this test of calling up 
words requires, as we have said, two factors, the extent of the 
vocabulary and the voluntary effort. Cabussel probably exer- 
cised no more effort than the other imbeciles but having a larger 
vocabulary he easily found more words. His case once inter- 
preted comes under the general rule. 

Outside the small number of words cited there are other facts 
which show that our defectives are incapable of an effort of 
ideation. For example they give only names of ordinary ob- 
jects, they often repeat the same word, and again, a very char- 
acteristic circumstance, they search for their words by looking 
about them and often name the objects they see, which is a sign 
of poverty of ideation. 

' Although it is not a question of cephalometry in this article, we think 
it useful to describe our method of estimating the development of the 
head. Instead of citing the figures of the measurements, which signify 
nothing, we substitute a comparison of the figures representing the normal 
cranial development among children. Thus Cabussel, who is 1.685 m 
in height, a little superior to that of the normal adult, has a normal face, 
and a head equal in development to that of a child of seven years. It is 
evident that this comparison with a child of seven is much more significant 
than if we simply said: Cabussel has an anterior-posterior diameter of 
168 millimeters, transversal of 137 millimeters, frontal of 97 millimeters, 
biauricular of 122, and vertical of 126, etc. These figures mean nothing 
without commentary. 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 41 

Memory for figures. This is the last of the tests which we use 
to measure the capacity for effort. It will be remembered in 
what this consists. A person repeats a series of figures, without 
intonation or rhythm at a rate of two figures a second. Immedi- 
ately after having been heard they are to be repeated in the order 
given. One must go quickly for the memory of figures which 
have no meaning is very fleeting. A normal subject, according 
to the pains he takes, can repeat from 6 to 9 figures or even more. 
Probably 7 is about the average number. 

To this test defectives adapt themselves easily enough. They 
understand that they must repeat the figures, and they do so 
as soon as they are pronounced. Certain ones, nevertheless, 
find difficulty in grasping the order. Thus Cabussel begins to 
repeat each figure as soon as it is pronounced. If we explain 
laboriously to him that that is wrong, that he must wait until 
we have finished giving the series, before commencing the repeti- 
tion, he responds by a prolonged silence, he allows precious time 
to pass before beginning to repeat the figures. He often cannot 
reproduce a single one. But Cabussel is an exception. In gen- 
eral, imbeciles Hsten to us in silence and commence to repeat 
the moment that we have finished. 

What is the number of figures which they are capable of re- 
peating? Although this test seems to demand but a slight de- 
gree of intelligence, yet our defectives succeed very poorly with 
it. According to our notes we find the results are very far from 
brilliant; Denise (low grade imbecile), Victor (middle grade im- 
becile), Beauvisage (high grade imbecile). Cretin (middle grade 
imbecile), repeated in general only one figure, sometimes 2. 

Albert and Lanerie (high grade imbeciles) repeat 4. Guliard, 
Griffon, Birn (morons) repeat 5 or 6. Therefore, all without 
exception are below normal. There almost seems to be a rela- 
tion between the intellectual level of a subject, and the num- 
ber of figures he can repeat. Victor (middle grade imbecile) 
repeats fewer than Albert (high grade imbecile), and he in turn 
fewer than Griffon who is a moron. More need not be said; all 
our results confirm those given above and show again the in- 
capacity for effort which exists among defectives. 

As in other cases this incapacity betrays itself not only in the 
weakness of the numerical results; it manifests itself by incidental 
phenomena. Here are some of them. First the automatism 



42 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

of some repetitions. It is a common occurrence among normals 
that when they forget a figure they have a tendency to replace it 
by a figure of their invention which is the continuation of the 
preceding. In repeating 3, 8, 2, 7, 5, if they hesitate after 2, 
they have a tendency to cite a figure which will be 3, or 4 conse- 
quently one nearer than 7 and betray a tendency to evoke the 
figures in their natural order. Ziliez, one of our students, who 
was the first to remark this tendency among normals, resorted 
to complicated calculations and numerous documents in order 
to make this clear. He would not have taken so much pains 
with defectives, because with the latter the tendency to follow 
the natural order is very much more marked; or rather, without 
being stronger it is not corrected by the critical sense; one often 
meets those who, after hearing a series like, 3, 8, 2, 5, 9, 4, say 
to you with a naive seriousness, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 . . . . 
and they insist when questioned, that they have repeated what 
was just said to them. Do they believe it? Probably not, 
but all this must be very vague in their minds. Another kind 
of error, which frequently occurs among them, consists in for- 
getting the first figures of the series. They repeat only the 
last like echoes. With normal subjects the distribution of errors 
is slightly different. It is the middle of the series which shows 
the signs of weakness. The beginning and the end are better 
retained. It has seemed to us that this difference is significant 
and deserves an attempt at interpretation. Here is ours. To 
recall the last words of a series heard is natural for the reason 
that one word heard disperses those heard previously and the 
last word covers all the rest. In order to remember the end 
figures it is necessary only to remain passive. On the other 
hand, if one wishes to recall the first figures one must struggle 
against forgetfulness, and repeat the figures energetically to 
oneself while the experimenter is saying others. This is a very 
active exercise which a zealous normal subject readily performs. 
Thanks to these supplementary repetitions, he succeeds in re- 
viving the memory of the first figures. As to those of the middle, 
he has not the time to revive them and cannot give them this 
secondary help. Naturally, an imbecile who has less activity 
and especially less ingenuity than a normal does not even dream 
of employing this reinforcement of his first memories, and con- 
sequently he loses them along with the middle of the series, 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 43 

retaining only the last, like an echo, because he does not actively 
intervene to preserve them. 

One may be astonished that some imbeciles, however incapable 
of effort one supposes them, should be reduced to repeating a 
single figure. Is this then a measure of their field of consciousness 
for verbal repetitions? We disregard Beauvisage, who is rebel- 
lious and could do better probably if she applied herself. But 
Victor and Duneize are docile subjects. How does it happen 
that when we recite three figures and they understand very well 
what they ought to do they recite only one, the last, like an echo? 
Evidently one does not need to be a psychologist to realize that 
this monosyllabic repetition is a very small return. It is all 
the more surprising because imbeciles are capable of spontaneously 
making sentences of many more than one syllable. Victor 
can make sentences of from 8 to 12 syllables; and as for Duneize, 
when questioned about her home, she replied thus: 

Q. From what country are you? 
A. From the plain of St. Denis. 
Q. Where do you live now? 
A. In the plain St. Denis. 
Q. What street? 

A. By the red ball .... near the wine merchant .... 
there is a great door, and then it is there. 

Here is a collection of little sentences which contain at least 
24 syllables, and it is difficult to understand how a subject who 
is capable of constructing a sentence of such length should be 
reduced to a monosyllabic repetition. This same Duneize who 
repeats only one figure, can repeat a number of syllables when 
they make sense. Here is a fragment of attempts made upon 
her, as well for the memory of figures, as for that of sentences. 



Words of the experimenter 


Replies of the subject 


2 


2 


4,7 


7 


4, 7 


ca, 7 


5, 8 


8 


Before? what did I say? 


(Silence) 


3, 9 


9 


Before? 


(Silence) 


5,1 


1 


shoe 


shoe 



44 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



Words of the experimenter — Con. 
I am cold, I am very hungry. 
Ta poum 
Racao 

Pif Pouf Paf 
Mac ferlan 
2,3,9 
6,7,4 
6,2,8 

I have a beautiful bird 
I have a green frog 
I have a red and blue Polichinelle 
Do, mi, sol, do 

Some coffee with milk and some 
good chocolate 



Replies of the subject — Con. 
I am very hungry. 
Ta pou 
Racao 
Pouf Paf 
Mac ferlan 
2, 3, 9, 
(Silence) 
8 

Beautiful bird 
Green frog 

Red and blue Polichinelle 
Do, mi, sol, do 

Some good chocolate then some 
coffee with milk. 



These little attempts show us that our imbecile can repeat 
sentences longer than two syllables. She even repeated 7 syllables. 
In this case the sense of the words aided their retention. But 
the figures have no meaning, they do not speak to the imagination; 
they are absolutely forbidding. To retain them one must strug- 
gle against their uninteresting character. In a word one must 
make an effort, and this is always the point to which we return; 
the defective is incapable of effort. 

Conclusion. The results which we have just cited are almost 
a confirmation of the experiments upon the effort of attention. 
The utility of all this chronometry which the psychological labora- 
tory has so much abused, has often and with reason been con- 
tested. But nevertheless it remains well demonstrated that with 
pathological cases of the nature of defectives these experiments 
upon intensive and forced attention are of incontestable value 
because they show the weakness of attention in a place where 
it might have been least suspected. Our imbecile Albert, as 
we have said, is the image of a perfect pupil, who listens motion- 
less in his seat, and might be taken as a model for restless chil- 
dren. At first sight he seems to be extremely attentive, but 
this is only in appearance and quite superficial. The test upon 
the time of reaction, among others, shows this clearly. The time 
of reaction of a good pupil is from 12 to 15 hundredths of a second, 
while that of our imbecile is 50 hundredths, which is an enor- 
mous difference. This is not, by the way, pecuhar to Albert, 
whom we take as an example. Griffon, a moron, has longer times 
than a normal, although more rapid than Albert. This is easily 



VOLUNTARY EFFORT 45 

understood; his times of reaction are better because he is more 
intelUgent. These tests also show us that there is a certain 
quahty in the intehigence which is distinct from those which 
we have described above, such as excitation, fixation, resistance 
to distractions and spontaneous returns. These are quahties 
of the concentration of attention. There exists, besides, a more 
intimate quahty, more effective, which may be called the in- 
tensity or the depth of attention. It is indeed by the depth of 
attention that our defectives differ the most from normals. This 
is the decisive point, the thing which we have simply supposed 
up to the present, which our tests first clearly bring to light. 

What seems singular, when one thinks a little, is that all these 
tests of effort of attention are difficult and even painful, but they 
do not demand a particularly great intelligence; they are easy to 
understand, and in any case, if one takes a little pains, one can 
make them understood by imbeciles. Besides they do not 
demand a great expenditure of judgment nor invention ; does it 
require these, for instance, to turn a handle? Evidently not. 
One might have supposed that the capacity for effort is distinct, 
independent of the intellectual level, and that the most stupid, 
the most limited being, is therefore capable of effort. 

This would be an error, as we have just seen. Without attempt- 
ing to explain anything, without even having the right to explain 
anything, since we have not made a study of the intimate nature 
of effort, we shall simply say that effort depends upon intellec- 
tual level, and that for this reason, it is denied to defectives. 

It is probable that in other pathological states, where the sub- 
jects are recognized as incapable of effort, the genesis of the 
phenomena would be entirely different; a state of fatigue for in- 
stance, may render the effort impossible or ineffectual. Recent 
descriptions have strongly insisted upon the relation of fatigue 
to the absence of effort. Let us admit it. But remember that 
these same facts may be explained in other cases in a quite differ- 
ent manner, and that the impossibility of effort may be a direct 
consequence of the lowering of the intellectual level. 



IV. MOVEMENTS— WRITING 

After the psychogenesis of attention and of effort, let us attempt 
to enter into that of movement, or rather into one particular act, 
the very complicated act of writing. We may roughly conjec- 
ture that this act, in proportion as it is executed by persons 
more and more intelligent, will become more delicate, more pre- 
cise, more conformable to the end proposed. It is curious to 
find, that in working with a graded series of defectives we ob- 
tain a series of hand-writings more and more complex, which 
very much resemble those which can be obtained from a series 
of normal children of different ages. This is curious, and in 
practice it might be convenient for a diagnosis. If one is in 
doubt as to the intellectual level of an imbecile, if one supposes, 
for instance, that he could reply to questions but that he does 
not reply because of a rebellious character, it would often be suffi- 
cient to slip a pencil into his hand and to let him write, in order 
to judge. Someone, perhaps Richelieu, said "With two lines 
of a man's writing one could have him hung." We willingly 
add, with a line of writing we can establish the intellectual 
level even among those who do not know how to write. 

We will begin with the idiot, Vouzin, who cannot pronounce 
a single word. We give him a sheet of white paper and a shar- 
pened pencil. He takes the pencil, which he holds awkwardly 
in his right hand, but he has no hesitation in recognizing the 
sharpened end of the pencil, and he uses only that end. He im- 
mediately begins to scribble. He traces on the paper with an 
incredible activitj^ great curvilinear movements, employing not 
only his fingers, but his hand, and even his forearm. As soon 
as he has finished we give him another sheet of paper; he com- 
mences his work with the same animation and seems to take 
the greatest pleasure in it. A specimen of his scribbling is repro- 
duced in our figure 10 which represents about one quarter of 
the page scribbled over. 

At first sight there appears to be no plan, no directing idea in 
the scribbling, and one might attribute it to a l^lind play of some 

46 



MOVEMENTS — WRITING 



47 



physical phenomenon; but by looking closely one can see a trace 
of adaptation. The movement in spite of its extent, remains 
within the border furnished by the dimensions of the paper, and 
though occasionally the line crossed the border, Vouzin never 
attempted to make lines on the table upon which the paper rested. 
Passing next to low grade imbeciles, we place a pen in the hands 




FIG. 10. SCRIBBLING OF THE IDIOT VOUZIN ON A LARGE SHEET OF PAPER. 



of Denise, and we ask her to write upon the white paper. She 
traces no letter, no design, nothing but strokes all in the same 
direction but without order. When her ink is exhausted, which 
soon happens, she finds the ink well but dips her pen with so 
little attention that it frequently passes outside without her 
perceiving it. Figure 11 reproduces this elementary calligraphy. 
It is not the simplest that could be imagined. We have seen 
the scribbling of Vouzin, which is still simpler, and besides, Vouzin 
probably could not have used a pen. The lines of Denise are 



48 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

better organized; they more nearly resemble writing. Notice 
also that Denise does not cover one of her strokes by another 
as Vouzin does. Note in passing that Denise can copy nothing; 
a circle had been traced on her paper which she had been asked 
to imitate but spite of a long insistence nothing was obtained but 
little strokes, which she put like feet to the circle. 

Gentil, a low grade imbecile, slightly superior to Denise in 
that he pronounces more words, has also very rudimentary 
writing. With a great deal of satisfaction, he traces zig-zag 
lines with a pencil, the point of which he had first put in his 
mouth. If a pen is given him, he makes the same design, hold- 






r 



FIG. 11. HANDWRITING OF DENISE, LOW GRADE IMBECILE. 

ing the pen backwards, and pushing upon the point, without ever 
taking more ink when the pen becomes dry. He continues thus 
his zig-zag during a long time, although his pen traces no visible 
line. One might imagine that his zig-zags are of the same rudi- 
mentary character as the sweeping lines of Vouzin. But they, 
differ by at least two characteristics; first they are formed of 
short strokes which are quite regular, and in the second place 
they do not cover one another. The lines are made in any direc- 
tion but they do not cross each other. 

With imbeciles of the middle grade we obtain scribblings which 
more nearly resemble writing. Victor constantly carries about 



MOVEMENTS — WRITING 



49 



with him a soiled note book of 130 pages, which are methodically 
covered by horizontal lines of small zig-zags, carefully made 
from left to right; each page has at least some thirty of these 
little lines; they are in order, fairly parallel, and none overlap- 
ping. They are made with a pencil which is kept between the 



^ y K 




FIG. 12. HANDWRITING OF GENTIL, LOW GRADE IMBECILE. HE KEEPS 
WITHIN THE EDGES OF HIS PAPER. 



pages of the book. Every page bears in addition a circle traced 
by following the outline of a sou. We have begged and implored 
Victor to make us a present of his note book or of at least one 
page. He has refused with continued persistency. All that 
he has consented to do, in order to be agreeable to us, has been 



50 



• THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



to make a copy of one of the pages upon a sheet of paper which 
we have furnished him. He traced the Unes with the gravitj^ of 
a Minister of State. 



<-/ 







i'^^^ 


/■ 


^'-7' 4^ 


^ 






ff /> 


f" 


\- 


.' 


' r 


/ 










FIG. 13. A PAGE FROM THE NOTE BOOK OF VICTOR, MIDDLE GRADE 
IMBECILE. 

His writing is much superior to that of Gentil, to which one 
should compare it for the two are somewhat similar. In the first 
place the lines traced by Victor are constantly parallel, like the 
lines of a manuscript, while those of Gentil are divergent and 
go in every direction. Besides Victor is not limited to rudimentary 



MOVEMENTS WRITING 



51 



zig-zags; his seem like letters more or less well traced; e, u, and 
p, can even be recognized. 

Cretin is a young girl who belongs to the same degree of im- 
becility as Victor. She does not take to writing like Victor 
but she consented to do something for us. Her writing is not 







FIG. 14. WRITING OF ALBERT, A HIGH GRADE IMBECILE. HE WISHED TO 
WRITE HIS NAME AND A SERIES OF FIGURES. 

unlike his, although it is more elegant and neater and is also 
shaded; one can almost recognize the shapes of certain letters. 
As can be seen, we approach constantly nearer to writing. 
Duneize, high grade imbecile, when asked to write, traces one 
after another the letters a, u, and n, that can be easily recognized. 



52 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

One would say it was a page belonging to a school child learning 
to write. In the same way Albert traces figures or letters. Here 
ends the history of illiterate writing. One degree more and we 
have specimens of normal writing. 

We have considered it worth while to publish with brief com- 
ments these graphisms of defectives, because they clearly show 
the evolution of the writing movement, which as it becomes 
more and more organized approaches the normal movement. 
But what is most remarkable in this series of graphisms is that 
it reveals to us a law of evolution which governs not only the 
movements but still more the ideas. We are not yet able to 
fully understand that law, but we shall return to it later, and 
formulate it as clearly as possible, when we treat of ideation. 
For the moment it is sufficient to say that it constitutes a transi- 
tion from the vague to the definite. 



V. INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 

It is worth noting that idiots, who are not helpless, and who 
can walk, move about without colliding with the furniture, which 
proves that they are capable of perceiving distances and the 
direction of nearby objects. The psychologist may be aston- 
ished that processes so complex, so difficult to define as those of 
spatial perceptions, should be capable of organization in the 
nervous system of an idiot. This organization presupposes as- 
sociations, sensations, comparisons, fine perceptions of differences 
and of resemblances; think for a moment of the complicated 
physiology of the eye alone that is necessary to the perception 
of distance. There exists therefore a perceptive intelligence, 
which, upon analysis, is found to be very complicated, but which, 
nevertheless, may be developed among the lowest defectives, 
so low indeed that they do not understand the meaning of the 
simplest words. 

From all this we may draw a first conclusion; since the intel- 
ligence of language is not developed in idiots but only in imbe- 
ciles, we have here the proof that the acquisition of language 
is something very much more difficult than the intelligence of 
perception. This is not surprising, however, if one recalls that 
even animals have extremely fine perceptions; dogs, for example, 
and carrier pigeons know so well the way to their home that a 
special sense of direction is often attributed to them. 

We are going to study this intelligence of perception among 
ijnbeciles, availing ourselves of their ability to speak. We shall 
employ a convenient and usual method, the investigation of the 
sensibility, although we realize that, in spite of its classic charac- 
ter, this method has serious faults. It transposes and alters the 
phenomena to be studied. In reality we ask the subject to ex- 
plain what he feels, and we force him to translate his state of 
sensibility into words. But this verbal translation cannot give 
us a faithful image of what that sensibility really is. In order 
to know what it is, one must let it live. We must, in other words, 
see what a subject does in the presence of a stimulus, and study 

53 



54 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

the acts of adaptation which he executes in response to this 
stimulus. This is quite another thing. It may happen that a 
person plainly perceives some very slight stimulus, and that he 
is incapable of explaining it or even of giving an account of it. 

If the distinction which we have made seems subtle to those 
whose study has been limited to normal subjects, the study of 
the imbecile will quickly prove to them that this is a well founded 
distinction. In the first place some of these defectives are so 
low in intelligence that they understand nothing of what is asked 
of them. How can we explain to Denise that she must speak 
when we prick her, and must remain silent when we do not? 
She is anxious to please but will reply at random, anything to 
be agreeable, even though her state of sensibility may be normal, 
which is by no means certain. Even high grade imbeciles do 
not adapt themselves easily to investigations about their sensitivity. 

Let us recall the case of Albert who is the gentlest, most defer- 
ential, most docile imbecile that can be imagined. We begin 
by asking him to close his eyes; he obeys immediately, closing 
them with such energy that his face is all wrinkled. We graze 
the back of his hand with a pen-holder and ask if he feels our 
touch. He replies that he feels nothing. We continue increas- 
ing the force of the contacts, and Albert still continues to affirm 
that he feels nothing. 

Q. Do I touch you? 

A. Not at all. 

Q. What am I doing to you? 

A. Nothing. 

Is this insensibility? One might think so. It is, however, 
simply a misunderstanding, easy to produce with imbeciles. It 
is sufficient to open Albert's eyes and to let him see that we 
touch him to make his language change. 

Q. Well now? 

A. You are only using the head of a pin. 

Q. Do you feel it? 

A. A little. 

Now, his eyes once more closed, he responds exactly as the 
sensation is produced; he says "You touch me," and adds, when 
we ask it, the localization of the contact, and it is nearly correct. 



INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 55 

Q. But a little while ago we touched you, why did you say you felt 
nothing? 

A. I felt nothing. 

It is impossible to obtain from him any other explanation. 

We do not affirm that the difficulty is insurmountable, but it 
exists nevertheless, and it is well to be on one's guard so that 
errors may be avoided. 

Before every sensorial experiment one must become master 
of the intelligence of his subject; not only does an imbecile have 
trouble in understanding, but, again, being very open to sug- 
gestion, he will often reply out of desire to please. One must 
therefore find experiments easy to understand and free from all 
suggestion. If successful one perceives a very remarkable fact. 
This is the contrast between the weakness of the intelligence which 
we call verbal and social, and the delicacy of perception. Albert, 
who knows his letters a little, easily lends himself to an examina- 
tion of vision by means of an optometrical scale. He indicates 
clearly at 5 meters, in the open air, 3 letters (out of 7 presented) 
having the height of 7 mm. 

Below we give several quite characteristic cases. 

Take the experiment of weights and let us see what is the 
slightest perceptible difference. We use boxes weighing 10 gr., 
11 gr., 12 gr., 13 gr., 14 gr., 15 gr. These boxes are alike and 
measure 24 millimeters. They do not rattle when they are 
shaken. We present the boxes in the following order: 

First series: 10-15, 10-14, 10-13, 1,0-12, 10-11. 

Second series: 15-10, 15-11, 15-12, 15-13, 15-14. 

The two series present increasing difficulties, the second being 
the more difficult, for although the absolute differences of the 
boxes are equal, the relative differences are smaller. Each time, 
the two boxes are presented in such a way that the subject does 
not perceive that one of them remains the same for all the pres- 
entations. 

For the perception of lengths of lines there are pairs of lines 
placed end to end, traced in ink, that must be compared. The 
absolute length varies from 5 to 35 centimeters, and the difference 
varies from 0.5 to 0.1 cm. 

What is the difficulty of appreciation which the comparison 
of these lines and weights supposes? We shall take as the type 
a normal subject of twenty-three years, a cook, whose social con- 



56 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

dition is consequently analogous to that of our hospital defectives. 
This young girl compares all the lines without an error but finds 
certain pairs extremely difficult, and often repeats, "They cer- 
tainly are alike, those lines." She goes over the series twice. 
In the test of the weights she runs over both series twice also. 
She commits no error but in one case she refused to pass judgment 
finding the difference too small to be perceived. She repeats 
that the test is very difficult. The difference 14-15 grams seems 
to be her limit, because we presented it to her five succeeding 
times and out of five attempts she made one error and one refusal 
to pass judgment. During the whole operation her attention 
was very good. 

We can therefore conclude from this experiment, which has 
been confirmed by many others, that a normal subject of moderate 
social condition, if not hurried, can by a great effort of attention 
succeed in making all these comparisons correctly, but only by 
paying strict attention and by not going beyond a certain limit, 
15 to 14 grams — which causes her doubt, suspension of judgment 
and even error. What do our defectives do? The manner in 
which they generally undertake the comparison of weights does 
not prepossess us in their favor. They show an awkwardness 
of judgment in handling and in comparing them which is very 
amusing. When the two boxes are handed them and they are 
asked which is the heavier, certain of them without weighing 
either put the finger upon one and say expressly, "This is the one 
that is heavier." Then, naturally, we explain that they must weigh 
the boxes before judging them. They obey; but let us examine 
their manner of weighing. In the first place there are those who 
seem to notice the weight less than the form. Duneize (middle 
grade imbecile) looks curiously at the boxes, turns them over and 
has more the appearance of measuring their size than seeing which 
is the heavier. Others often raise only one box and that suffices 
them for deciding that it is heavier than the other. Albert has a 
manner all his own for weighing, which is to put the boxes side 
by side in the same hand extended flat. It is not impossible — we 
have ourselves verified it — ^to appreciate thus a difference of weight, 
but this manoeuver does not facilitate the comparison, far from it. 
One might therefore conclude that our defectives have a very 
poor perception of weight. This is an error. We shall see that 
nothing is so curious as the contrast between their awkwardness 



INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 57 

in adapting themselves to a new experiment, and the cleverness 
that certain ones of them show for the perception of very fine 
differences. 

Let us note the imbecile Cabussel. He has truly remarkable 
skill in discovering sKght differences. We made him go twice 
over the first and second series described above. In twenty- 
three comparisons he made but six errors, of which three 
were spontaneously corrected by him and should be elimi- 
nated. There remain three errors, made on the couples 10-11, 
10-14, and 10-15, two of which are among the easier series; 
which proves that his was an error of pure inattention, since it 
was not dependent upon the smallness of the difference to be 
perceived. This subject, by the way, is very inattentive and we 
should not have expected such delicacy of perception in him. 
This delicacy is equal to that of a normal subject. This was 
an unexpected, almost unbelievable fact. Is it unique? No. 
The same observation applies to Albert. He was not submitted to 
exactly the same procedure, as Cabussel; we contented ourselves 
with making some tests with the weights 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 
presented in pairs so that the absolute difference was 1, 2, 3, or 
4 gr. We took no account of the relative difference. Below we 
sum up the results given by Albert. 

Difference of weights No. of true perceptions in 10 trials 
1 gr. 4 

2gr. 8 

3gr. 7 

4 gr. 8 

Each time Albert gave the weight putting his finger decisively 
and unhesitatingly on the box which seemed to him the heavier. 
It can be seen that he was able to perceive a difference of 2 
grams when the weights varied between 10 and 15. This is a 
little below normal, but considering his intellectual level the result 
is altogether remarkable. 

Let us pass to the comparison of lines — remembering that 
they are traced in the continuation one of the other, and that 
they occupy in consequence the right and the left of a white page 
and that all are contained in a copy book. 

Albert after explanation acted as though he perceived no dif- 
ferences even the greatest. He was successively shown the 10 



58 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

pairs; first he indicated the line on the right as the longer, then 
for the 9 other pairs he indicated constantly the line on the left. 
It is evident that his attention is not awakened and that he re- 
sponds mechanically; we explain to him his error. We tell him 
that he must not always point to the same side that sometimes 
the longer line is on one side and somecimes on the other, he must 
look every time. After this explanation he solemnly points ten 
times in succession to the lines on the right. New explanations 
are given. We urge him sharply to compare. Again Albert 
shows constantly the line on the right; he is seized with automa- 
tism, nothing can be done. 

We were more fortunate with Beauvisage, who is an imbecile 
of the same grade as Albert. Out of 21 presentations she made 
only three errors. This implies a truly remarkable accuracy 
of perception. Later when we wished to repeat the experiment, 
some obstacle had intervened. Was it that Beauvisage was 
fatigued, or indisposed or distracted by some circumstance which 
escaped us? We do not know; whatever the cause she was the 
victim of the same automatism of the right side that we had 
observed with Albert. During 20 presentations of pairs of lines 
she indicated constantly those to the right. It is curious to 
see such stupidity mingled with such fineness of perception. 
Imbecility never abdicates. 

In proportion as we take subjects of higher mentality, so much 
nearer do we approach normality. Griffon, a moron, shows 
a certain delicacy in the perception of slight differences of weights. 
He does each of our two series twice, and fails only on the single 
difference 14-15, exactly like our normal subject. All this goes 
to show that in the experiments made upon the perceptions of 
defectives, in order to estimate truly, one must recognize two 
sorts of phenomena which manifest themselves at the same time 
and complicate the situation, on the one hand, the perceptions 
and on the other, inattention and automatism. We must make 
a distinction between the perception and the disturbing element, 
as one separates the precious almond from the bitter shell. If 
one succeeds in doing this, he perceives that in all grades of de- 
fectiveness the fineness of perception.equals, or nearly equals, that 
of the normal individual. 

Why is the intelligence of perception among defectives almost 
equal to that of normals? This is a question easily asked but not 



INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 59 

easily answered. Darwin's theory furnishes something of a 
solution; the necessities of adaptation and the struggle for exist- 
ence have produced this useful result; for in order to live it was 
necessary that every being should know the surroundings to which 
he tried to adapt himself; otherwise he would succumb and dis- 
appear. But this solution is a very vague explanation and cer- 
tainly cannot satisfy a psychologist who is amazed at the strik- 
ing contrast between the intellectual level of the defective and 
the acuteness of his perceptions. 

We have ourselves proved, as anyone may prove for himself, 
Jiow difficult it is to distinguish between 13 gr. and 15 gr. and 
especially 14 gr. and 15 gr. One is perplexed and lacks confidence 
in the accuracy of his own judgment. One cannot help asking 
how this imbecile, who cannot even count the number of his 
fingers, masters the difficult operation of comparison of weights. 

We reply with- this hypothesis; the perception of a difference 
of IT between two weights is a difficult operation, but it is also a 
simple operation. It consists properly speaking in feeling and 
recognizing a slight elementary sensation. There is no need of 
superior processes, of critical sense, or of judgment; it requires 
only that one be attentive for a moment, that every other idea 
be dropped and the attention centered on the sensation, which 
one seizes as it passes. The proof of this is that our normal sub- 
jects oftentimes say "I dare not keep on testing the weights or I 
become bewildered." In other words, intelligence is not necessary, 
and one who is limited to sensation and attention does better. 
This is why an imbecile who does not reflect nor try the weights, 
succeeds so well. In any case, whether our interpretation be true 
or false, there still remains this important fact observed years 
ago by us among children, that the intelligence of perception 
does not undergo any evolution comparable to that of the atten- 
tion, of effort, or of language. It is much more precocious. 
One is surprised to learn that an imbecile, so inferior in swiftness 
of action, in repetition of figures, in holding himself motionless, 
in squeezing a dynamometer, in short in all experiments requiring 
effort, succeeds in the exact comparison of lines and weights which 
seems to us normals very difficult. 



VI. THE SENSE OF PAIN 

The study of the sensibility to pain is still more difficult than 
that of general or special sensibility. Pain is more closely re- 
lated to the personality than all other sensibilities. The in- 
dividual is not indifferent to it, as to weak sensations of sight 
and touch. Pain provokes more vivid feelings of apprehension, 
fear, anger, or even courage, or bravado through vanity; and 
all this contributes to form a special attitude of the subject in 
regard to suffering. There is therefore, a distinction to be made 
between pain and the personal attitude. When we study nor- 
mals they reply to our questions, and can more or less give us 
an idea of their feelings, but this is not the case with idiots or 
imbeciles. 

Let us first speak of what we have observed among idiots. 
If one suddenly pinches the skin of the arm, he quickly draws 
it back, often uttering a little cry, and draws back again if we 
attempt to repeat the experiment. This is a natural reaction 
like that of an animal whose tail has been stepped upon. This 
reaction in the idiot is not hidden by a peculiar mentality, 
determining him to take an attitude of bravado. In this respect 
the reaction is very instructive in its brevity. 

Let us go farther replacing this mild excitation of pinching 
by an extremely painful one, that of burning. If we bring a 
lighted match near to the nose or the hand of most idiots what 
happens? Either they allow themselves to be burned without 
doing anything, or they scarcely react to the pain. In any case 
their reactions compared to those of a normal whose nose one 
attempts to burn, are extremely moderate. What is the cause 
of this difference? We see several possible causes. 

1. The brain of the idiot is a diseased brain; it presents 
lesions in keeping with the symptoms of paralysis and contrac- 
tion which one encounters in the limbs. It is possible that the 
idiot presents zones of analgesia and that we have stumbled 
unintentionally upon one of these zones; the analgesia would 
explain the weakness of their reactions. Evidently this is 

60 



SENSE OF PAIN 61 

possible, but scarcely probable, because in our multitude of 
experiments upon different subjects we always obtain similar 
results without a single exception. It is not probable that we 
always, by chance, encounter a zone of analgesia. 

2. The idiot assumes an attitude of courage. He does not react 
because he controls himself. This interpretation seems to us 
still more improbable. An idiot is not sufficiently intelligent, 
we think, to assume such a complicated attitude. This is not 
even worthy of discussion. 

3. Pain is not simply a physical sensation; it is reinforced by 
moral reverberation; physical pain calls up fear, disquietude, 
the image of great danger, and it is all this contribution of the 
imagination and of the feelings which gives to a painful sensation 
its enormous volume. Suppose, as an hypothesis, that the 
mental reinforcement of pain be suppressed in an individual, 
would not such an individual be rendered almost insensible to 
pain? And would this not be the case with idiots, who are in- 
tellectually inert, incapable of anxiety, or of an act of imagina- 
tion which exaggerates the pain? 

This last hypothesis seems to us good as far as it goes and it 
must have its part in the total explanation. The pain felt by an 
idiot must evidently be insignificant. But let us not exaggerate. 
There are cases where without psychic reinforcement, a pain is 
intolerable. Let one attempt to burn the end of his nose with 
a lighted match, and he will be quickly convinced. Animals 
react with great force to pain of this kind without needing the 
aid of imagination. We believe certainly that idiots are less 
sensitive than animals. They feel pain but the weakness of 
their reactions indicates slight development of the sense of pain. 
They show at the same time poverty of imagination and poverty 
of the sense of pain. 

Let us pass on to imbeciles. We have tested four of these; 
Denise, Cretin, Albert, Griffon. If one were satisfied with the 
first results one would be led to conclude that the sensibility to 
pain in Denise and Albert is extremely weak while that of Cretin 
is on the contrary exaggerated. The facts, however, require 
a closer study, by which it will be seen that the solution is much 
more complex. The present study has no other purpose than 
to show the difficulty of investigation and to analyze certain 
attitudes of our subjects. 



62 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Let US take first Denise, a low grade imbecile. We turn back 
her sleeve to which she makes no resistance and even aids us 
in so doing. We then roughly pinch her skin; she cries out, 
evidently a cry of pain, jerks her arm away and moves away 
from us. Immediately we call her back. She comes running 
and again aids us with much interest to lift her sleeve, and allows 
herself to be pinched. She utters a cry of pain and moves away. 
Has she then forgotten the first experience, since she is so willing 
for the second? We begin again; she comes running to our call 
showing the same interest; she laughs and repeats comically 
with her mimicry the gesture which we had made in calling 
her to us; for the third time she lifts her sleeve, with the same 
willingness, not offering to protect herself, seeming not to suspect 
the least in the world that she is going to receive a painful sensa- 
tion. The pinching takes place, she cries out and moves away. 
This is very curious, we admit, very obscure. What is it that 
happens in that little brain? We have made the test as many as 
ten times and Denise always comes back eagerly, with the same 
laugh, offering her arm to the slight pain of pinching. A mystic 
would not march more bravely to martyrdom, but here there 
can be no question of courage or of vanity put forth to brave 
suffering. Denise is too gay, too laughing when she comes 
running for one to suppose for an instant that she is using any 
voluntary effort of control. In that case she would have a dif- 
ferent expression. Can one say she is analgesic? It is possible, 
at least in part, because we have plunged her hand in very hot 
water, and we ourselves were forced to draw it out to prevent 
serious burning. Moreover she has so little fear of flame that 
she scarcely draws back when a lighted match comes in con- 
tact with her nose; she even allows herself to be burned without 
a word. On the other hand, her little cry on being pinched 
shows that she has a certain amount of sensibility to pain. One 
can also suppose that her lack of apprehension comes from her 
inability to imagine in advance the pain of pinching which is to 
be inflicted upon her. She foresees the pinching but not the 
pain; it must be the memory of the pain that is lacking. All 
these explanations are possible, and we even believe that all of 
them contain a part of the truth. One must also take into ac- 
count the childish character of Denise, she attaches importance 
to nothing, she allows herself to be easily distracted. Her joy- 



SENSE OF PAIN 63 

ous nature has the same result as an attitude of bravery; it covers 
the perception of pain and prevents its reahzation. 

To resume: our conclusion is here almost the same as with 
the idiot. Weakness of the sense of pain, weakness of the mental 
reverberation; there is also a third influencing circumstance, the 
gay and careless character of Denise. Cretin, middle grade 
imbecile, behaved altogether differently. In order to learn 
her sensibility to pain, we raised her sleeve, slightly pinching 
her arm. At first she seemed amused, and smiled; indeed it 
was her first smile that day. Then when we attempted a second 
time to pinch her, she defended herself drawing back her arm 
vigorously. We seized her wrist without, however, causing 
her pain. It was nevertheless the beginning of a contest; the 
child began to cry loudly, and to sob, hiding her face behind her 
sleeve. At the end of several seconds the sobs stopped of them- 
selves. We gave her a sou which she eagerly took and pocketed. 
But in spite of the gift her sullen attitude only increased, she 
stood up and insisted upon leaving us, repeating several tunes 
"me gO'." 



Q. 


Where? 






A. 


Eat. 






Q. 


Eat what? 






A. 


They are eating. 






Q. 


You are going to eat? 






A. 


Yes, it is time. 






Q. 


But stay just a minute, 


are you 


afraid of us? 


A. 


I go eat. 







While giving these pretexts, she was gradually nearing the 
door undoubtedly desiring -to open it, but not daring to put her 
hand on the knob. Finally we opened it ourselves and she left 
eagerly almost running. 

The explanation must differ from that which we gave for Denise; 
the sensibility to pain undoubtedly exists, but there is added to 
it a mental reverberation that was lacking in Denise, that is fear. 
Cretin was really afraid of us; note also the element of aversion; 
not only was she afraid of us but she disliked us. 

Let us conclude with Albert, the most intelligent of our im- 
beciles. 

Raising his sleeve, without giving him any warning we pinch 
him sharply or prick him with a pin in a way to produce what 
would be a real pain to a normal person. We ask him: 



64 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. What was done to you? 

A. You pricked me. 

Q. Tell us when it pains you. (Fresh pricking — very pronounced) 

A. (In a quiet voice) Ah, I feel that. 

Q. But does it pain you? 

A. Yes. 

Albert is so little annoyed that he holds out his arm for us to 
continue. Other prickings which bleed do not even call out a 
cry. We make him plunge his index finger in water so hot as 
to be intolerable; he does not even wink, he holds his finger plunged 
a full minute in boiling water. For fear of serious results, we 
are obliged to intervene, drawing out his finger which is a vivid 
red. His countenance is unmoved — the smile is still there upon 
his thick lips. 

Q. Is it hot? 

A. I felt nothing. 

Begged to try again, he does so without hesitation, plunging 
his finger once more into the water. Again we are obliged to 
draw it out. Taking our turn, we plunge our own finger before 
him in the boiling water, making gestures of pain to influence him. 
But this mimicry scarcely moves him and does not act at all as 
a suggestion. Invited to begin again, he shows no hesitation, 
leaving his finger in the water until we draw it out. If a lighted 
match is brought close to his nose or eyes, he draws back a little, 
but very slowly although he feels the pain; we could easily burn 
him seriously if we were not more careful than he. 

How can we interpret this? It is complicated. We cannot 
ask for an explanation from Albert, because he would always 
agree with us. We suppose that he really feels the pain although 
doubtless not so much as a normal person. He does not, how- 
ever, possess great fear, no quivering ideas of apprehension; 
consequently we believe he assumes an attitude of bravery, which 
is quite possible, since it dominates a sensibility which is not at 
all exaggerated. A last example; it is the moron, Griffon, upon 
whom we now experiment. He is seated before us, both elbows 
on the table, and we begin to speak of indifferent things. With- 
out warning we reach out and pinch him severely. He utters a 
slight cry and tries to draw back his arm. Since he is very docile, 
however, and since he sees that we have a very serious attitude, 



SENSE OF PAIN 65 

he replaces his arm, and seeing us take a pin to prick him he vol- 
untarily submits to this attempt, enduring without winking the 
pain of scratching him with the pin. It is evident that with 
Griffon the same as Albert this is the result of an attitude of 
bravery, because he first gave a cry and now remains impassive. 

Two conclusions result from all this. First that an attitude 
of fear or bravery, depending upon the character of the subject, 
always cooperates, more or less, with an experiment upon pain 
and may completely disguise the reactions to such sensibility. 
This is an undeniable conclusion which our imbeciles have clearly 
demonstrated. 

As to the state of the sensibility to pain it is much more diffi- 
cult to fix with precision. But we willingly admit that imbeciles 
have generally a certain obtuseness. 

This second conclusion has been verified by many different 
experiments upon school children. We have proved conclusively, 
according to different authors, that the threshold of sensibility 
to pain in the most intelligent pupils is lower than in the least 
intelligent; in other words, to provoke in them, a minimum of 
pain requires a slighter pressure. This finding, compared with 
that which we have made upon our imbeciles, clearly shows that 
sensibility to pain develops with the intelligence; by pain we 
must here understand not only a sensation localized and ap- 
preciated in its intensity, but also all the psychic reverberations 
of this pain, the ideas and emotions it provokes, which increase 
it like an avalanche. In truth the highest intelligences have more 
merit in being courageous than grosser natures; they are in fact 
braver, though not by absence of fear, not by obtuseness of the 
sensibilities, but by domination over a delicate sensibility, as 
in the case, for instance, of Turenne. 



VII. THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS AMONG 
THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Our object is to discover how association of ideas among de- 
fectives is formed, and if the mechanism of the production of 
ideas presents in them any particular traits worthy of psychologi- 
cal consideration. The procedure to be followed has been de- 
scribed by several authors; we have made only slight changes, 
which, however, were quite necessary. Here is the ordinary 
instruction given to our subjects. "We are going to say a word, 
and for every word you hear you are to say one, but the word 
that you say must not be the same as ours." Ordinarily the 
directions are more precise, the word is required to be in relation 
with the word of the experimenter but we cannot make this 
recommendation; our imbeciles would not understand it. 

The young cook of twenty-three whom we have taken as a 
normal subject for comparison, is very much embarrassed by 
the vagueness of the instructions. This young woman was 
constantly annoyed and dissatisfied with her replies, asking us 
what she ought to say, and if her words ought to relate to those 
given by us or not. And certainly she was quite right in asking. 
Her distress showed clearly the ambiguous character of the 
test. Of course, we did not reply to any of her questions, we 
made the experiment without explaining anything, and we 
give below the results. The times are extremely variable, be- 
tween a minimum of 2 seconds and a maximum of 18. The 
median value, which is here much better than the average, is 
5.5." The words that she gives are in the most diverse relation 
to the stimulus words; but all obeyed the fundamental law of 
completing the sense. Sometimes it might be a definition: 
"serpent — a creature that stings," or an effect: "shoe — for walk- 
ing; water — ^refreshment; sun — ^warmth; garden — pleasure; paper 
— ^to write." Or the whole suggested by the part: "nose — face; 
hair — woman;" or supplementary connection "hat — coquetry;" 
sometimes a familiar association "knife — bread." This logical 
evocation, which was in no way demanded of her, however, proves 

66 



ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 



67 



that logic is easier to follow than chance; just as a worn path is 
easier to follow than a direct course over the fields. We consider 
it worth while to give the series of replies as a standard, although 
necessarily it bears the stamp of individuality, and does not present 
so general a bearing as one could desire. 

Stiviulus words Time Reaction 

Singer 14" Actor (after a moment of em- 
barrassment) 

I run 18" The beautiful path 

Revolt 5" War 

Hat 4" Coquetry 

Bottle 7" Liquid 

Picture 6" Landscape 

Moustache 7" Chinaman 

Knife 6" Bread 

Paper...- 6" Write 

Hair 9" Woman 

Red 4" Flag 

Dog 2" Four feet 

Rain 8" Bad weather 

Water 4" Refreshment 

Garden 3" Pleasure 

Omelet 3.5" Food 

Shoe 4" For walking 

Syrup 4" Sweetened liquids 

Tobacco 5" It is dried leaves 

The nose 2.5" Face 

Sausage 9" Food 

The sun 4" Warmth 

Soldier 4" Army 

Newspaper 2" Reading 

Serpent 7" A creature that stings 

Misery 5" The opposite of luxury 

Justice 17" To give what is right 

Virtue 11" It is a quality 

Snow 5" Rain 

Handkerchief 7" Cloth 

Maximum time 18", minimum time 2". Median time 5.5". 

Our defectives are distinguished from normals by many char- 
acteristics, first of all by their general attitude. We have said 
that our normal subject was troubled and felt quite embarrassed. 
This embarrassment, so characteristic of a normal person who 
is a novice, was not in the least shared by our imbeciles, who 
showed the greatest serenity and evident satisfaction in all their 
replies. 



68 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

All began by simply repeating the stimulus word; if no obser- 
vation had been made to them they would have continued the 
repetition, which has no interest whatever. It is curious, but 
it is not peculiar to defectives. We have sometimes encountered 
normals in previous experiments who with good faith repeated 
the stimulus word without adding anything and who did not per- 
ceive the absurdity of this repetition. 

We intervene after a certain time and urge our defectives to 
use a different word from the one pronounced by us. Sometimes 
it is necessary to insist quite a little in order to break up this 
habit. Some are embarrassed. They do not know what to 
say. For a time they are satisfied to repeat the words which 
they have already used at the beginning of the experiment; 
but this stock is soon exhausted; they must draw new words 
from their imagination. The words they find vary greatly and 
depend upon their mental level. 

Let us first mention a high grade imbecile girl, Duguet, who 
resorted to a singular expedient. After having passed the pre- 
liminary period of repetition, which we have just described, she 
cites words which have no relation with ours, and which probably 
she prepared beforehand. It can easily be seen because she 
always chooses from the same category of objects, either the 
names of garments or the names of objects present before her. 
She seems to have hesitated a little before following this direc- 
tion; but it becomes evident towards the last, and the reaction 
times are very short, which is proof that she has prepared the 
word of reply. 

Stimulus words Time Reaction 

Singer 3" Singer 

I run 1" I run 

Revolt 2" Revolt 

Hat 8" Hat 

New explanations are given so that the subject may lose the 
habit of repeating. 

Stimulus words Time Reaction 

Bottle 35" Don't know — ah — the table 

Picture 4" Chair 

Moustache 4" Bottle 

Knife 4" Plate 

Paper 4" Fork 



ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 69 

Stimulus words Time Reaction 

Hair 3" Knife 

Red 5" Spoon 

Dog 5" Carafe 

Rain 4" Umbrella 

Water 4" A boat 

Garden 5" Dress 

Omelet 8" Light 

Shoe..... 3" Carpet 

Syrup 4" On the floor 

Tobacco 1.5" Hat 

Sausage 1" Abed 

Sun 16" Hat 

Soldier 2" Dress 

Newspaper 2" Apron 

Serpent 6" Boot maker 

Misery 1" Stockings 

Justice 2" Slipper 

Virtue 1" Carpet 

The snow 2" The door 

Handkerchief 3" Square 

Maximum time 35", minimum time 1", Medium time 3.5". 

From time to time, e.g., "rain" and "water," a slight associa- 
tive influence let itself be felt, but more often there is no con- 
nection, as is seen with such couples as misery — stockings; jus- 
tice — slipper. This absence of relation is quite characteristic. 
A normal would never think of replying thus, for he would realize 
that it rendered the experiment quite useless; at lease, he would 
not unless as a result of an attitude of mockery. In the case 
of Duguet, the result proves the weakness of the association of 
words; the word pronounced by us does not stand out because 
she is looking for another. The times are shorter than those 
of a normal but we have explained the reason. 

A middle grade imbecile, Victor, shows a form of transition. 
He commences like Duguet, by giving words without bearing 
upon those pronounced; then, beginning with the word tobacco, 
he changes his tactics. The associative influence of the words 
makes itself felt. 

Stim.ulus words Time Reaction 

Singer 3" Singer 

I run 3" I run 

Revolt 3" Revolt 

Hat 0" Hat, a cap 



70 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



We urge him not to repeat the word that we have said but to 
find another. 



Stimulus V'Ords Tin 

Bottle 7 

Picture 6 

Moustache 4 

Knife 5 

Paper o 

Hair 7 

Red 4 

Dog 5 

Rain 5 

Water o 

Garden 4 

Omelet 5 

Shoe 5 

Syrup 5 

Tobacco 4 

The nose 4 

Sausage 

The sun 4 

Soldier 4 

Newspaper 



Serpent. 
Misery. . 



Justice. 



Virtue 8 



Snow 4" 



Handkerchief 4" 



Reaction 

Belt to put around the body 

Table .... girdle, cravat 

Mous- .... a watch 

Kni- .... knife put in the 
post 

Ah .... socks 

Ah .... cravat 

Ah ... . shirt 

Socks .... night shirt 

Ah .... night shirt 

Drawers 

A spade 

A wheelbarrow to gather dirt 

Spade — to dig 

Rake — to gather dirt 

Tobacco to smoke in a pipe 

To put tobacco in his pipe 

Sausage to light the pipe and 
tinder to light the pipe 

The sun to set up there 

I never was a soldier 

Newspaper. To read the news- 
paper in bed 

Siphon (?) 

Misery, yes (makes sorrowful 
countenance) 

Just for the saving (he means for 
the saving bank) 

To put on ground, to eat in sum- 
mer (understood lettuce, simi- 
lar sound in French "vertu — 
laitue") 

The snow .... to fall on 
the world 

To blow (gesture) 



Maximum time 8". Minimum time 2". Median time 4". 

Victor's times are short, shorter than those of our normal 
(4" instead of 5.5")- One might remark that the nature of his 
associations does not consist in grouping beside the spoken word a 
word having an entirely different sense, for instance, red-black, 
sun-moon, etc, Victor rather tends to develop the idea given 
to him, but he naturally employs very elementary processes. 



ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 



71 



With Albert, a high grade imbecile, after the preliminary 
period of repetition, all at once there is produced the association 
of ideas. There are here veritable associations, with heterogeneity 
of the elements. Let the reader judge. 

Stimulus words Time Reaction 

Singer Singer 

I run I run 

Revolt Revolt 

Hat Hat 

Bottle Hat 

Picture Bottle 

Moustache 12" Cravat 

Knife 5" Fork 

Paper 10" Picture 

Hair 9" The head 

Red 9" White 

Dog 5" Cat 

Rain. Ression (?) 

Water 13" The Seine 

Garden 30" There are flowers 

Omelet 5" Some eggs 

Shoe 5" Eggs 

Syrup 5" Cod liver oil 

Tobacco 5" Cigarette 

The nose Needles (probably had under- 
stood thimble (le nez . . . . le de) 

Sausage 8" Pudding 

The sun 5" The moon 

Soldier 5" Military 

Newspaper 35" Magazine 

Serpent 5" serpe (pruning hook) 

Misery 50" Anger (?) 

Justice The Justice 

Virtue Don't know what to say 

The snow The snow it falls, the snow 

Handkerchief 20" To blow one's nose 

Maximum time 50". Minimum time 5". Median time 8". 

Albert's times are longer. The associations are of such or- 
dinary character, or rather, so elementary, chat one might have 
foreseen many of them. We have here results that do not 
seem to us clearly subnormal. An experimenter who was not 
forewarned might have attributed them to a normal. We will 
finish with the association of ideas of Griffon, a moron. These 
seem to us to be 'of an absolutely normal level, except for one or 
two improprieties of term or of thought. 



72 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



Stimulus u'crds Time Reaction 

Singer 3" Singer 

I run 5" To walk 

Revolt 6" Someone who jostles 

Hat 7" Hatter 

Bottle 7" Broken glass 

Pictui'e 3" Images which represent land- 
scapes 

Moustache 6" A man who has a moustache 

Knife 12" Which is made with a wooden 

handle 

Paper 7" It is made with rags from the 

factory 

Hair 7" Which is on the head of a man 

Red 13" A cloth that is red 

Dog 6" An animal that is cross 

Rain 3" That falls on the earth 

Water 7" Which is found in springs 

Garden Which is found in the fields 

Omelet 3" Which is made of eggs 

Shoe 7" Which is made of leather 

Syrup 5" Which is made in factories 

Tobacco 7" Which is made with tobacco from 

the Caroline Islands 

The nose 7" Which is above the chin 

Sausage 7" Which is made with fat of pork 

The sun 10" Which makes the earth go 

Soldier 10" Represents the earth 

Newspaper 5" Which is made in the printing 

shop 

Serpent 6" Which is found in the fields 

Misery 2" A man who is unhappy 

Vii'tue 8" A man who is good 

The snow 3" That falls on the earth 

Handkerchief 6" Which is made with rags 

Maximum time 13". Minimum time 2". Median time 7". 



The replies of Griffon have the form of appreciations, of judg- 
ment, of definitions, much more than true associations. The times 
are quite long. 

Let us sum up, now, what these experiments upon the associa- 
tion of ideas have taught us. The difference between the defec- 
tive and the normal is seen constantly in the attitude taken, 
particularly in the beginning of the experiment. While the 
normal subject is embarrassed and protests that he does not know 
what is required of him, the imiiocile and the moron, adapt them- 



ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 73 

selves at once to the instructions of the new experiment. There 
is in this uneasiness at the beginning a mental state of higher 
order, which unfortmiately cannot be written down with the 
replies of the subject, and which, so to speak, evaporates. It is 
a pity, for it forms a most characteristic difference. The length 
uf the reaction times is also very significant. If we take the 
median times, we can see they are very much shorter with the 
defectives who are of low level, or who give reactions of an inferior 
quality; let us put these median times into a series; we have 
3.5"-4:"-S"-7". This series is too short for us to be able to inter- 
pret it safely. We venture, however, to conclude from it that 
the time depends upon the more or less elementary character 
of the reaction, and that, considered separately, the reaction 
time signifies nothing more than the time required to do a cer- 
tain problem when we are not told in what the problem con- 
sists. Let us add that similar studies upon eight normal school 
children, aged from ten to twelve years, have furnished us with 
the following median times, which represent each about thirty 
association experiments: 4"-5.3"-5.7"-6.7"-7.3"-7.5"-12.1"-19" 
of which the median would be 7. This is a new argument to 
demonstrate that the association times are longer with normals 
than with imbeciles, without doubt because the former have more 
ideas to choose from. From this we can draw the following im- 
portant conclusion in regard to the ideation of the imbecile. 

When a normal reflects upon something, he does not content 
himself with evoking an image, but he has an end towards which 
he tends, and he tries to adjust his images to this end, and for 
this adjustment he chooses among his images, he seeks for, he 
rejects, and he retains. This work of selection is one in which 
the intelligence of the agent manifests itself. When asked to 
say a word after the word pronounced, he seeks more or less to 
find a suitable word; this causes frequent embarrassment and 
often rather long times before replying. With imbeciles, the 
work of ideation seems to be much more simple. The imbecile 
probably says the first word that comes to his mind; at all events 
if he rejects certain words as inappropriate, this work of selec- 
tion is very short, very restricted; he does not possess much choice 
of words, he is not embarrassed, and consequently the work is 
more elementary, more rapid. If one gave a prize for rapidity 
it is the imbeciles who would win. As to the nature of the 



74 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

associations, it is evident that it can serve to distinguish onl}- 
extremely low defectives like Victor and Diiguet. We have seen 
that with them that which we have called ''the associative action 
of words" does not take place for some time; but with Albert 
and with Griffon, the associations formed present nothing peculiar, 
that is have no fixed relation to deficiency. One can conclude 
from this that it is not by the word of the inner language thac the 
defective is differentiated from the normal; it is by the sentence 
rather than by the word; by the thought rather than by the image; 
by the organization rather than by the nature of the elements 
which are to be organized. 



VIII. THE ACTIVITY OF THE INTELLIGENCE DISTIN- 
GUISHED FROM THE LEVEL OF 
THE INTELLIGENCE 

The purpose of this short chapter is to point out an error or 
rather to note a necessary distinction which is often unrecog- 
nized, the distinction between the intellectual activity and the 
intellectual level. Ordinarily the two are confounded; one im- 
agines that the activity and the level are on a par and that a 
being who has an active intelligence, one who talks much and 
who has many ideas, is an intelligent being. Observations made 
upon defectives will throw light upon this point. 

In general imbeciles have a sluggish intelligence, and the con- 
versation which one can hold with them is extremely flat. They 
have nothing to say, nothing to relate; they can imagine nothing, 
and hence are very brief; for instance there is Albert, a high grade 
imbecile, of whom we have already spoken. Let us converse with 
him and examine his remarks which show an extreme poverty of 
ideas. The first time we saw him the following dialogue took 
place between us: 

Q. What is your name? 

A. Albert Ernest. 

Q. How old are you? 

A. Twenty-six years old. 

Q. Why were you sent to this institution? 

A. You see, my sister had a dispute with my brother-in-law, she pre- 
ferred to put me away. 

Q. Why did your sister dispute thus with your brother-in-law? 

A. Because he is a man who drinks. 

Q. Ah! and then? 

A. He did not want me with him. 

Q. Truly? 

A. And yet I did all the work. 

Q. What did he say to make you leave? 

A. Dreadful words. He even went and said at the "frefecture" I was 
full of lice. 

Information obtained showed us that the brother-in-law drank, 
and had several times been locked up as an alcoholic. Albert's 

75- 



76 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



sister is now getting a divorce from her husband. It is easy 
to understand how it happened. Albert up to that time had 
])een kept by his family. Dissension had arisen, pecuniary 
difficulties followed, and the imbecile could no longer remain 
in their charge. 




FIG. 15. ALBERT, HIGH GRADE IMBECILE, TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD. 
ME.VFAL LEV^EL OF CHILD OF SEVEN. 



Q. What was your trade? 

A. My trade was to work in the market in the morning, 
wagons. 

Q. Were you strong? 

A. Very strong. 

Q. How much did you make at the market? 

A. Twenty sous a day and the customers gave me tip?;. 

Q. How much money did you get for tips? 

A. Fourteen sous. 



I loaded the 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIC4ENCE 77 

Q. Altogether, how much did you make? 
A. In all 29 sous. 

Q. What did you do with that money? 
A. I gave it to my sister. 
Q. Why did you give it to her? 

A. (With some emphasis). Because it was my duty. 
Q. But everyone does not give his money to his sister. 
A. Not everybody. 
Q. What persons do it? 

A. It's those who get married, those who drink too much, who spend 
their money. 

Q. You were getting married? 
A. Ah, no. 

We learned that Albert willinglj^ got up early in the morning 
to go to the market. He was very fond of his work. He quar- 
reled with no one miless it was with his brother-in-law, whom 
he could not endure. He took long trips through the streets 
and found his way easily enough. He could go out alone with- 
out causing any trouble, because he did not take up with people 
whom he did not know; in a word, a very good subject, very 
affectionate, very gentle. He wept at the death of his mother, 
which had recently occurred, but his sorrow did not last long. 
He was careful of his person, even foppish for he liked to be well 
dressed. He often carried flowers to the women living in the 
same house as himself. We said to him jokingly that he ought 
to marry; the idea pleased him, he had chosen many women 
to whom he made love platonically, with flowers and bouquets. 

Q. From what country are you? 

A. From the Batignolles. (A quarter of Paris). 

Q. Is that in a city, Batignolles? 

A. Yes. 

Q. In which city? 

A. It is a city of Marseilles. 

Q. Yes, but when one is in Batignolles, can one say "I am English?'' 

A. I am Parisian, I am not English. 

Q. What is the date of your birth? 

A. Ah! I do not know. 

Q. When did you come here? 

A. Yesterday, (correct) 

Q. What day is today? 

A. Wednesday, (correct) 

Q. And what was yesterday? 

A. Tuesday. 



78 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. And tomorrow? 
A. Thursday. 

Q. How many daj-s in the week? 
A. Five days. 

Q. Is it morning or afternoon? 
A. Afternoon, (correct) 
Q. Why? 

A. Because it is afternoon. 
Q. What year is it? 
A. The month of April. 
Q. But the year? 
A. I do not know. 

Q. What is the name of the President of the Republic? 
A. Ah! I do not know. 
Q. You have been to school? 
A. Yes, in the street I'Arbre-Sec. 
Q. What docs your father do? 

A. My father had a butcher shop in Paris, rue du Jour. 
Q. Who has his shop now? 
A. A man who used to work in the shop. 
Q. And your mother? 

A. She was a trades woman. It is my sister — who has had the medal. 
Q. You have brothers? 
A. Ah! my brothers are dead. 

Q. But you, you are not dead, even if you have come into tlie world? 
A. Ah! no "msieu." 
Q. Does everyone die? 
A. Yes. 

Q. How is one when he is dead? 
A. One never comes back. 
Q. And God, where is He? 
A. He is in heaven. 
Q. Does He concern Himself about us? 
A. It is on Him that we call. 
Q. How is that? 
A. It is our soul that calls us. 
Q. Ah! Where is our soul. 

A. Our souls, that is where our heart is .... It is our soul that 
speaks. 

He replies neither rapidly nor slowly; and we would not have 
noted the quickness of his responses if we had not needed to 
take it as a basis for comparison with other subjects. 

Let us examine his verbal spontaneity. It is weak. He can 
only find a few words by himself. After a long al:)sence on our 
part, we saw him again. 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 79 

Q. What have you done my friend, in this long time since I have liad 
the pleasure of seeing you? 

A. I have swept. 

Q. And then? 

A. And then I cleaned the tiles — the tiles in the hall. 

Q. And then? 

A. And then I began again — after breakfast. 

Q. And then? 

A. I don't know. 

Q. And yesterday? What did you do yesterday? Tell me about it, 
give me the details. 

A. Yesterday I swept too. 

Q. And then? 

A. And then when I had finished sweeping they sent me to the garden. 
("jai'din"). (He meant the attendant "gardien"). 

Q. And then? , 

A. Ah! I don't know. 

It is impossible to obtain any other explanation. If this 
imbecile had been the only witness of a complicated scene, and 
one wished to know what had happened, it would have been 
terribly difficult to find out. 

One day Albert came to us with a blue kitchen apron knotted 
around his waist. We feigned amazement. 

Q. Why have you that apron around your waist? 

A. (With a stupid smile) I'm a plunger. 

Q. You bathe, do you? Is there a basin of water that you plunge into? 

A. No, I wash the dishes. 

He is very proud of this new duty, and we are assured that 
since he has filled it he carries his head differently. But it is 
impossible to make him express this feeling or anything analogous 
to it. 

Q. You like to wash the dishes? 

A. Yes. 

Q. Well, tell us about it — say something. 

A. I don't know what to say. 

Another time we succeeded in making him tell a stor^' of 
his own invention. It was the first time that he had ever done it 
and we suppose that we owe the story to his extreme docility. 
Here it is, literally reproduced. "A dog — a white dog — that I 
took to walk in the woods — that ran after the rabbits. The dog 
got away from my hands and I lost him in the woods. The 



80 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

rabbit came and found me, and asked me how it happened that 
I had that rabbit. It was my dog that caught it. I go home 
with the rabbit. My relatives ask me how I came by it. I 
tell them that my dog caught it and I was almost arrested by a 
policeman. My relatives told me that I ought not to have done 
it." 

Q. Is that a made-up story? 

A. Yes. 

Q. Some one told it to you, or have you told it before? 

A. No, nobody, because I saw it in a picture. 

It is evident from the turn of the sentences, the foundation 
of the story, and the final conclusion, that this is the story of a 
child. 

Contrast this with a loquacious imbecile, Cabussel, a big 
jovial fellow, 1.685 meters (67.4 in.) in height, with the little 
head of a child of seven years. He has very brilliant, black eyes, 
and a great black moustache, which he smooths and combs 
from time to time with the greatest care. The moment he is 
spoken to, one is struck with his loquacity. He talks so rapidly 
that we, who wished to record verbatim the replies of our imbeciles, 
were unable to follow him and for the first time were obliged to 
employ a stenographer. 

Let us give a sample of his abundant conversation, 

Q. What is your age? 

A. Me, monsieur? Twenty-eight the month of April. I belong to 79. 

Q. You know how to read? 

A. Yes, monsieur, I can read and count money and everything. And 
I can do errands and everything. 

Q. What is your business? 

A. Me, tailor. I work with my father. I know how to make overcoats, 
dress coats, jackets. I also carry the coal. I know politics,too. When 
I go to get the paper, I see what is going on. 

He praises himself. He is a great braggart. 

Q. Where were you at school? 

A. Rue Domet. 

Q. Have you a certificate? 

A. Yes, monsieur. (Absolutely false) 

Q. Can you count? 

A. Yes, monsieur. I can do problems, subtractions, divisions. 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 



81 



Q. Wi'ite: (one of us dictates) The pretty little girls have studied the 
flowers. (He takes the pen but does not write). 

A. Ah! I have fifty of them, me .... 

Q. Fifty what? 

A. Fifty women. I had one twenty years old. (Several rather loose 
remarks follow). 




FIG. 16. CABUSSEL, HIGH GRADE IMBECILE, OF TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS. 
VERY LOQUACIOUS; LEVEL MENTAL OF A CHILD OF SEVEN. 



Q. Very well 



but write what I dictate. The pretty lit- 



tle ... . 

A. (With a smile). Ah! I don't know very well how to write . . . . 
I haven't been in school much. 

Q. You can at least write your name. 

A. I know how to write, me .... (He commenced to print some 
letters.) I begin with a C (He writes his name). 

Q. Write Papa. 



82 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

A. (With a roguish air). That begins with a P. (He tries but cannot 
write Papa). Paris, I can write that very well. (He prints the word 
Paris.) Ah! I know how to count. If you wish I can count up to 100. 

Q. Well, go ahead. 

A. (Making a show) I begin with 1. (He counts correctly up to 65, 
then he says 65, 67, 68, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 100. He is 
well satisfied). 

Q. And read? Can you read? 

A. (He takes the newspaper that we hand him and follows the lines 
with his finger without saying anything). 

Q. No, read out loud. How do you expect me to hear? 

A. Ah! (with a coaxing smile) that is a little difficult. 

Q. Spell out the letters. 

A. I learned the a, b, c's. 

Q. Very well, spell. 

A. (He spells and commits numerous errors; besides he skips the letters 
he does not know). 

Q. Who is President of the Republic? 

A. Fallieres, and before him it was Loubet. And they say that the 
one who is deputy at Javel is worth nothing at all. He had more than 
1000 firemen killed. He is an assassin, that man. It was like Casimir- 
Perier .... he did not stay long. He gave in his dmission. Philo- 
sophore (Felix Faure) was poisoned, he was. He poisoned like that his 
friends .... He made a good dinner with poison in it. 

Q. How do you know that? 

A. It was in the Petit Journal. (Note that he cannot read.) 

Q. You read it? 

A. Yes, yes. 

Q. Who Avas Gambetta? 

A. He was a great man. Went in a balloon .... Field of battle 

. . . . And then. Savaro died with his mechanician .... he 
fell upon a place, from 25 meters high. And then Santo Dumont took a 
bath in the sea. He was saved, he was. He is a good fellow. When he 
goes out he gives pieces of a hundred sous, to get the clothes that are at 
the Mont de Pietc, sheets, handkerchiefs, housekeeping things. It is 
he who does that. 

Q. How did you know that? 

A. It is in the paper. That is well known. 

Q. And Monsieur Thiers? 

A. Thiers? He was good for nothing, he was. He had everybody killed 
with paving stones, in his carriage. He put them to the edge of the sword. 

Q. How do you know that? 

A. I heard them talk at home. And Napoleon the 1st. He was a good 
fellow, he was. He died at St. Helena in 1840, the defeat of Waterloo. 
I knew him, I did. I was at the Invalides as guard. 

Q. As guard at the Invalides? What did you do there? 

A. I answered everybody's questions. 

Q. What else? 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 83 

A. I said, "Don't touch. I'll hit you in the face." (It is highly im- 
probable that he was ever a guard at the Invalides). 

Q. And Louis XIV? 

A. Ah! Louis XIV he reigned a lot, he did. And Louis XV too. Louis 
XIV a bad type, he was. He passed to the guillotine, by Deibler, rue 
de la Roquette. The guillotine it was Dr. Guillotin who invented that 
to cut the neck. 




FIG. 17. CABUSSEL TRYING TO WRITE FROM DICTATION. 

Q. And before, what did they do? 

A. It was like it was in America. They hung them with a big rope, 
and then they flung them into a hole. It was like Rochefort. They sent 
him away, and he was for politics. They wouldn't let him talk, and they 
shut him up here where I am. And then from here they exiled him to 
Nume.a. 



84 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. And Charlemagne, do you know him? 

A. No. It was Louis XIV, Charlemagne and Charles the Bold and 
Louis XVII and Alphonse XIII, they are the new kings. 

This dialogue shows tht^ loquacity of Cabussel. Once started, 
he scarcely stops. With him there is no need of constant urging 
as there is with the other imbeciles who speak only when one 
keeps sajang ''And then?" His loquacity is not, however ver- 
bal excitation, analogous to that of maniacs. Cabussel does not 
speak unless he knows or thinks he knows. His na'i've vanity 
and boastfulness are quite apparent but too unconscious to be 
harshly criticised. He knows many things, but he knows them 
badly and he distorts them in the reproduction. One wonders 
how he could learn all that; we should not have supposed that 
he knew the names of Thiers, Rochefort, and still less who were 
Louis XIV and Dr. Guillotin. 

"At home," he said one day, "they call me orator. And then every 
Sunday I go to the Deputy Chamber; the Minister receives me." Taking 
advantage of the occasion, we ask him to deliver a discourse; he willingly 
consents. 

A. I will talk to you about war. 

(He rises, adjusts his co.'it, twists his moustache, crosses his arms. Then 
he delivers the discourse which we give below. He speaks slowly and 
pauses constantly to find words and ideas. One should read this discourse 
carefully. It is a choice expression of vanity in an imbecile). 

"Once upon a time the war .... to die .... on the 
field of battle .... it's my idea .... hem .... much 
squabbling .... in case of war .... much squabbling 

. . . Ah! the one who will be with me .... him, like a good 
boy: I'll know how to defend him .... plead his cause for him 
. I will plead to his God for myself .... Perhaps in 
two weeks I will be no more in Paris. I will be perhaps an exile in prison 
. . . I shall not be able to get away from it .... I shall 
be able to get away in chains .... I shall not be able to get out 
of them in prison .... they will give me black bread and water 

. . . . on a board . . . . If I go out again I shall be very 
miserable .... And then, when I am among the chiefs .... I 
shall be decorated .... I shall pass as minister of war .... I 
shall pass as minister of the Interior, of Finance. And when there is 
money, it is I who shall dabble in it. I shall gain money. I shall be 
admiral .... After that I can marry a pretty, beautiful woman. 
I shall have children .... I shall rest in a beautiful castle . . . . 
coast of France .... and it will be a beautiful castle .... 
there will be kings and lords and then soldiers about me to regard me 
. . . . and thou I shall have servants, and carriages and horses. 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 85 

And then one could go to the country to the watering place. Ah ! especially 
it's cake that I want; at least fifteen thousand francs .... After 
that I shall be happy .... I shall live to be eighty years old . . . 
even a hundred and two years old .... fifty five years, fifty six 
years, fifty eight, fifty nine, fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine, sixty, one 
hundred . . . . up to a thousand years I shall live. I shall do like 
Jesus Christ. 
Q. And then? 

A. He was baptized, thirty five years .... Jesus Christ; it was 
in a Protestant temple .... he wasn't French, they made him 
Catholic, and Roman. The priest he said. Eat my flesh and drink my 
blood. Do this in memory of Jesus Christ. Amen." 

This discourse is a precious morsel of eloquence which cannot 
easily be obtained from an imbecile. It is precious because it 
reveals to us, better than any test of association of ideas, how 
the ideation of Cabussel develops. This ideation, on the whole 
very poor, is dominated by a single thought which makes unity 
of the fragment, that is the glorification of his own personality. 
Cabussel truly speaks only of himself, thinks only of himself. 
It is a vanity at once naive and enormous; notice carefully in 
passing that this vanity is neither pride nor self respect, it pro- 
duces no emulation, no generous effort. The vanity of Cabussel 
gives him at times a sentiment of pity for himself, as when he 
sees himself in prison; mostly, however, another sentiment domi- 
nates, that of expansion, grandeur. There is no dehrium, for 
Cabussel affirms nothing, he only wishes, imagines, dreams, but 
he lives in his dreams. The sentences which he employs have 
often a precise and clear significance; sometimes he alters them 
and involuntarily gives them a comic sense, as when he says 
the soldiers would regard him. Doubtless he intended to say 
"guard" him. He does not hesitate to use set formulas as "plead 
his cause for him," "plead to his God for me," and he is so com- 
pletely controlled by automatic associations, that having com- 
menced by speaking of war, he ends by entertaining us about 
Jesus Christ. In spite of his desire to be grandiloquent, he is 
obliged to make so many pauses, waiting for ideas which do not 
come, that the effect of his discourse is spoiled. Even before a 
great crowd he would make but a mediocre impression because 
of the slowness of his delivery. 

What we have just said of Cabussel proves that he has an in- 
tellectual activity which is very great. The question now is 



86 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

what does he owe to this intellectual activity and what are the 
results which come from it. Is he more attentive? No, and it 
is interesting to note this. Cabussel has no more voluntary 
attention than other imbeciles of the same level; rather he has 
less. Thus in the experiment of repetition of figures, which is 
one of the measures of the voluntary effort of attention, he re- 
peats only 2 figures; Albert who is about the same level repeats 4. 
Cabussel is not more successful in the repetition of sentences, 
and does not go beyond 6 words, which is little for this level. 
It seems probable that the force of attention is not in proportion 
to the intellectual activity. Perhaps it may even be that a 
very great activity is detrimental to the attention, which is the 
power of co-ordination. It is more difficult to drive six mail 
coach horses together, than one cab horse; so it seems to us more 
difficult to co-ordinate a strong activity than a weak one. The 
differentiation of thought^ which constitutes the essence of all 
adaptation, is in our subject wholly independent of his activity 
because it remains very weak. If a picture is placed before him, 
he speaks with his habitual volubility, but his comments are 
childish, and do not go beyond a monotonous naming of the 
sexes. Exactly like Albert, he repeats "That is a man; that is 
a woman; there are some men," while we are showing him in 
succession 16 different pictures. He has barely the beginning 
of description for one or two of them, as "There they are just 
sitting down to the table," His definitions of objects present 
the same monotonous character. Like Albert and so many 
others, he defines only by use. On the whole, in spite of his 
activity, his thought does not develop, it does not differentiate 
itself in view of a better adaptation. 

Here is the conclusion which we wished to reach. This con- 
clusion has been already anticipated in studying the normal state, 
where one often has the opportunity to make a distinction be- 
tween the quantity and the quality of psychological phenomena. 
Who has not encountered persons who busy themselves with a 
host of questions, have a great deal of information, speak of 
everything with warmth and an inexhaustible supply of words, 
are fertile in views, hypotheses, distinctions, neologisms? Very 
often they deceive as to their true value. They are thought very 

' We allude here to experiments of which we shall speak farther on. 



ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 87 

intelligent, while in reality they possess only intellectual activity. 
In mental alienation we encounter certain cases where the in- 
tellectual activity may be great, but the level remains very low. 
This is often the case in maniacal excitation. This is charac- 
terised by enormous expenditure of gestures and of words, which 
constitutes indeed intellectual activity, but the words have 
scarcely anj^ sense, and follow one another only according to 
the caprice of the phonetic organs, or an association of ideas 
scarcely thought out. The contrast is sometimes enormous 
between the verbal exuberance of such patients and the weak- 
ness of their minds. These facts are known by alienists but the 
distinction which we make between intellectual activity and the 
intellectual level has not always been recognized. In fact, the 
error of confounding them has sometimes been committed. One 
must remember that the faculty of adapting oneself is the prop- 
erty of the intelligence and that the power of adaptation is the 
measure of it ; it is evident that from this point of view any con- 
fusion between the activity and the level is impossible. 



IX. NUMBER SENSE AND THE ARITHMETICAL 
FACULTY 

According to the general opinion current among competent 
authors, imbeciles have no notion of number. To us this state- 
ment seems too absolute to be exact. 

When one talks with imbeciles, he notices that even small 
numbers give them no exact ideas. Certain ones, like Victor, 
who have an extended vocabulary, cannot even count their 
fingers. We ask Victor, 

Q. How many fingers have you? - 
A. (Opening his hand) Three. 
Q. On the other hand? 
A. Seven. 

Victor, by the way, replies in the most imperturbable manner 
to any question asked him, even if it be hopelessly beyond his in- 
telligence or degree of instruction. 

Q. 6 from 19 leaves how many? 

A. Two. 

Q. 2 and 1, how many is that? 

A. Two. 

Q. 5 sous and 1 sou, how many sous does that make? 

A. 1 sou. 

He is never embarrassed. Albert is equally absurd although 
he knows more. 

Q. How many fingers have you on the right hand? 

A. Five. 

Q. Altogether on the two hands? 

A. Six. 

Q. How many eyes have you? 

A. Two. 

Q. And how many ears? 

A. Two. 

Q. 2 eyes and 2 ears, how many ears does that make? 

A. Three. 



NUMBER SENSE 89 

To Victor who does not know how to tell time, we say showing 
the clock, which points to half past five: 

Q. What time is it? 
A. It is exactly four. 

That last reply is a little gem. 

In the same way they give us the most extravagant figm-es 
concerning their age; and by pressing them a little, they can be 
made to make enormous errors. Victor willingly admits that 
he is one hundred; and Albert assents to our affirmation that 
Dr. Simon is eighteen hundred years old. Such observations have 
given the idea that imbeciles have no notion of number. Never- 
theless the errors which they commit can be easily explained in 
two ways, which are quite distinct from the development of 
the arithmetical faculty. In the first place, they do not understand 
the precise meaning of the names of the numbers, these names 
do not waken in them any but the vaguest ideas, and conse- 
quently the crying absurdity of certain replies exists much less 
for their intelligence than for ours. They are like ignorant per- 
sons who say rude things, by using haphazard words from an 
unknown language; their only error is that of employing words 
whose meaning they do not know. In the second place, their 
defective manner of replying is aroused, and should be excused, 
because of their desire to please us. Imbeciles of the rebellious 
type, when asked something of which they are ignorant, as for 
example the number of fingers on the two hands, reply readily, 
''I do not know." 

Our studies have led us to propose the following distinction. 
In the arithmetical faculty there are two operations: the one 
sensorial, consisting in the perception of pluralities in concrete 
form, that is the number represented by the objects; the other, 
verbal, consists m applying the names of numbers to these plurali- 
ties, in counting them, and in making numbers undergo various 
arithmetical modifications. These two operations are distinct 
one from the other. The first is animal, in the sense that it is 
found in a rudimentary form among creatures deprived of 
language. The second is more especially human, because it 
presupposes the intervention of language for naming the plurali- 
ties, from whence has come the whole development of the ideas 
and operations which constitute mathematics. From not having 



90 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

made this distinction, naturalists have committed a grave error; 
they have supposed that the higher animals have no notion of 
number, or at least cannot count beyond 3 or 4, while man can 
count numbers indefinitely great; this is not correct and the con- 
trast here presented, gives rise to confusion. If man with a 
certain development possesses the conception of number, he 
owes it very largely to language; deprived of the service which 
the word renders, it is probable that he would be unable to count 
even small numbers. 

Let us make use of this distinction in order to study among 
defectives the state of their number sense. We shall begin by 
considering the animal, sensorial faculty, that which dispenses 
with language. 

Some time ago, one of us experimented with children of from 
3 to 5 years, before they had learned the names of the figures, 
to see if they could nevertheless recall a number of similar ob- 
jects. We put upon the table sous, or beans, in a group, side 
by side, without forming any figure, then we said to the child, 
"Look and see how many there are." Sometimes we put 3 
or 4, sometimes 5. Then taking all these objects in our hand, 
we deposited one on the table, saying ,"Are there any still in 
my hand?" Same question for the second, third, for all; after 
several tests made with many precautions, we learned how many 
objects the child could hold in mind. It is evident for instance, 
that if we had shown 20 at first, he could not, when we placed 
the 20th, say that was the last. We found that a normal child 
of five, without the help of language, could retain a number repre- 
sented by five similar objects. These experiments on animal 
memory were given to Victor, whom they amused very much, 
with the following results. We placed 4 single sous in the form 
of a square. Then taking them in our hand, made the move 
indicated, demanding a reply for each piece. When the fourth 
sou was placed Victor declared there were no more. We tried 
again with five coins, placed on a curve so as not to form a char- 
acteristic figure. The same success. When the fifth coin is 
placed Victor declares, "There are no more." 

We took six coins. Failure. The sixth placed, Victor declares 
there are more. 

Same game with seven coins. Success. At the seventh, 
Victor declares, "There are no more." 



NUMBER SENSE 91 

Repetition with seven coins. Same success. 

Same game with eight coins. Failure. 

Repetition with eight coins. Failure. 

Thus Victor can retain a number represented by seven objects. 

Albert cannot go beyond five under exactly the same cir- 
cumstances. 

We do not suppose after having been informed of such experi- 
ments, one could still say with W, Ireland that an imbecile has 
no notion of number. 

Let us now pass to the verbal intelligence of number, some- 
thing which is strictly human, and see in what state this is to 
be found among these same imbeciles; it is indeed in a miserable 
state and nothing is more curious than the contrast between it 
and the animal faculty which we have just seen in operation. 

Recitation of figures and counting. Albert can recite the figures 
to ten and a little beyond. Victor cannot go quite so far and 
commits errors. It is not difficult to recite figures; it is like 
reciting a fable or a prayer; it requires principally memory and 
but little intelligence. But they cannot recite the series of figures 
backward, either from inability to make the voluntary effort 
which would be necessary for this inversion, or through lack of 
facility in the associations connecting the names with the differ- 
ent figures. Furthermore it is a curious fact that they are unable 
to count as many objects as they can recite figures. Thus if 
they can recite to 10 it does not follow that they can count to 10. 
Let us see what they do. 

Already, the simple idea that they are to count, is difficult 
for them to grasp. We say to Victor, showing him a bowl full of 
pins, "Count me out eight pins." He gives us what he can take 
with his thumb and finger without counting. Let us admit 
that he does so through carelessness. We continue. Then 
we ourselves take 10 pins from the bowl, and spread them upon 
the table, and ask him how many there are. Without counting 
he replies 5. We repeat, "How many pins?" He answers 4. 

At another time Albert, in his turn asked to tell the number, 
replied 26. Did they get the idea that they were to guess? 
No. We rather believe that they did not suppose anything at 
all. A number is asked and they say any one that occurs to 
them. The number is suggested to them by the question and 
the appearance of the things, and they do not try in any way 
to verify it. 



92 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

But let US oblige them to really count one after the other 
the pins spread out on the table before them in a row. They 
commit a host of improbable, unexpected errors of such a nature 
that it seems as if they did it on purpose. Thus Victor often 
puts his finger on two pins at once, and counts only one; or again 
he neglects certain ones and does not count them; or again there 
is a whole group to which he returns and which, consequently, 
he counts twice without noticing. Duneize (middle grade im- 
becile) proceeds in the following manner. The pins are in a pile 
before her; she takes them one at a time and forms a new pile, 
and with every pin that she takes she says a number. The result 
would be correct if she followed this program to the letter; but 
she forgets from time to time to count one of the pins which 
she puts in the new pile, so that the total sum is not correct. 
More than this she does not give the last number which she counts; 
but any number, haphazard. For example, after having counted 
15 pins, she will say 14. Another time, she counted only 5 
pins and committed the following error: having reached 5, she 
continued to count, 5, 6, 7, probably because she allowed her- 
self to follow the suggestion by the continuation of a known series. 

It is easy to understand the cause of most of these errors. 
The necessity of designating the objects as they are being counted 
and at the same time reciting the series of figures may disturb 
the memory of the order of the figures, because there is a division 
of attention. Albert has furnished us a curious example of this. 
We put before him 6 pins, well separated one from the other. 
He counts them with his finger while reciting the following series: 
1, 2, 3, 4, 6. Having finished he perceived there was one more, 
at the same moment he also perceived that he had omitted to 
count 5; there was an instant of hesitation and then he decided, 
and touching the remaining pin he said, "five, there are five of 
them." The error is so complicated that it would have been 
difficult to explain it, and still more difficult to make him com- 
prehend it. 

It can thus be seen that to count objects represents a much 
more complex operation than reciting figures. Let us go farther 
and see what our imbeciles and morons do with money. 

Money. Money gives rise to much more difficult operations 
than pins do, because pins are unities, while money is composed 
of units, of tens, of twenties, of hundreds, which give rise, as 



NUMBER SENSE 93 

we shall see, to operations requiring considerable training. Are 
imbeciles familiar with, we do not say the value, but the names 
of the pieces of money? They know them, at least those who 
are older and have had time to learn them ; they know them even 
better than children of the same mental level, and this is natural 
because they profit from a longer experience. But their men- 
tality betrays itself especially in this, that they constantly make 
mistakes in naming the pieces, and give the correct name only 
once or twice out of three times. 

Here are the names given by Victor. 

Pieces represented Replies of Victor 

fr. 50 10 sous (correct 

1 fr 20 sous (correct) 

2 fr 20 sous (incorrect) 

5 f r 3 fr. (incorrect) 

A new sou 10 fr. (incorrect) 

1 sou 2 sous (incorrect) 

1 sou 1 sou (correct) 

20 fr. (gold) 1 fr. (incorrect) 

Immediately the pieces are again shown to him in the same 
order, and the difference in the replies is very apparent. 

fr. 50 10 sous, to buy tobacco 

1 fr 20 sous 

2 f r 20 sous 

5fr 1 fr. 

20 fr 3 fr. 

1 sou 1 sou 

5 fr 1 fr. 

20 fr 3 fr. 

1 sou 1 sou. 

5 fr 1 fr. 

1 fr 20 sous. 

fr. 50 That is to buy a 

package of tobacco 
10 ^us (correct) 

2 centimes Ah ! don't know, 

centimes . . 
you play me a trick 

What must we think of these designations? In the beginning 
one is disposed to take them seriously, all the more because the 
imbecile gives them without hesitation, and with a profound 
assurance; he seems wholly convinced of what he is saying. 



94 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

One supposes therefore that he has learned incorrectly: that 
sometimes happens. But it is not what most frequently happens. 
The general rule is that the imbecile gives any name haphazard 
to what he does not know, and he does not even suspect this; 
he has no intention whatever of guessing, nor has he the trick of 
wishing to hide his ignorance under an air of assurance. He does 
not perceive that he often contradicts himself; he does not realize 
that he does not know. He seems even to be convinced that 
he does know — if it can be that in a mental state so rudimentary 
as his, one can be convinced of anything. 

Let us push our investigation still farther, and ask the value 
of the pieces of money, how many sous, for instance, it requires 
to make a franc. Neither Victor nor Albert can reply, or rather 
the answers which they give are extravagant, and as though 
spoken at random. On the contrary Griffon, a moron, gives 
the correct reply every time. Between these two groups of 
defectives is it possible to imagine an intermediate state? We 
do not suppose so. We simply think that we might find an 
imbecile X who would give nearly the correct value of cer- 
tain pieces, exactly the correct value of others, and fail utterly 
on still others. Observation has furnished us a very unexpected 
type of transition. It is Beauvisage, our young, high-grade 
imbecile. She belongs to a family engaged in the business of 
selling crusts of bread for dogs; her services have certainly been 
utilized, and she must have received money and learned not to 
make mistakes. In effect, she knows the names of all the pieces 
of money, and besides she has some relative idea of their value. 
She cannot say that the 5-franc piece is worth a hundred times 
1 sou, or that the 2-franc piece is worth forty times 1 sou, but 
if we put them side by side she knows positively which is worth 
more. 

Thus she knows that 2 francs is worth more than 1 fr. and 
she knows that 1 fr. is worth more than 10 sous, and also that 10 
sous is worth more than a nickel 5-sou piece. More than this, 
if we make a pile of 8 sous on one side and on the other side place 
a 10-sou piece, she selects the 10-sou piece as more valuable 
than the pile of 8 sous. Here is a curious appreciation of the 
value of money; we have thought it interesting to note this fact 
in passing. 

Let us come now to the act of counting money; it involves 



NUMBER SENSE 95 

a great complication, of which we have already spoken. Cer- 
tain pieces are worth more than others; this is sufficient to be- 
wilder the imbeciles. Thus Albert can generally count correctly 
a line of a dozen pins spread out before him. This same subject 
knows the value of a 2-sou piece. Give him sous to count in 
which there are single and double sous, he makes mistakes be- 
cause he counts each double sou as a single sou. Five single 
sous and one double sou are counted exactly as though they made 
six sous. The nature of the error is curious; it evidently con- 
sists in a simplification; it is easier to pass from 5 to 6 than from 
5 to 7. Moreover little children make the same mistake. 

The centimes complicate the operation still more. We have 
remarked in the case of Cabussel, high grade imbecile and micro- 
cephalic, how dangerous it is to give to these beings any in- 
struction which is not in accord with their degree of intelligence. 
It is a question of high pedagogical importance, which would 
need a lengthy explanation. Perhaps we shall return to it later. 
Here it will suffice to indicate a particular application of it. Ca- 
bussel is capable of counting correctly 10 pins, or even 15 pins; 
if he sometimes makes an error it is slight and caused by a moment 
of distraction. When he is given a mixture of double and single 
sous to count, he becomes at once very much embarrassed, grows 
confused and ends by giving a result ridiculously wrong. This 
is because he knows the value of the money not only in sous 
but also in centimes; this is very unfortunate for him; if he knew 
only the sous, he could, we believe, make the count correctly; 
but he adds, now sous, now centimes, from which comes an in- 
extricable confusion. A sum of 11 sous, composed of 5 double 
and 1 single sou, is counted as making 36 sous. A sum of 15 
sous made with double and single sous, is counted as making 51 
sous, or another time 53 sous. It is difficult to give the details 
of this operation, because Cabussel goes so fast that one can 
scarcely follow him, and if you beg him to begin again, he never 
follows the same operation. 

Schematically, one might represent the work which he executes, 
by emplojdng the following terms: he counts, "1 sou, 2 sous, 3 
sous, 4 sous, 5 sous;" so far it is correct; then he encounters 2 
sous, which he counts for 10 centimes; he adds 10 centimes and 
5 sous which make for him 15 sous, and so on. Arrived at the 
highest figure, he says one time that they are sous, at another 



96 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

time centimes. In truth it is a pity that any one took the pains 
to teach this imbecile the value of money in centimes! What 
trouble, what effort it must have cost ! And with what results ! 
He counts very much worse than if he had remained ignorant. 

Many more observations might be made. We shall stop 
with this one, which was suggested to us by Lanterie, a high 
grade imbecile. She can count quite well a mixture of single 
and double sous, or at least when she is wrong, her error is slight. 
Thus, there are 4 double sous, and 2 single sous; she counts 
10 sous correctly. Nevertheless if one asks her a question of 
abstract addition, for instance, "How many are 3 and 2?" she 
shows herself incapable of adding 2; she succeeds in adding 1 
but not 2; out of 6 questions of this nature she made 4 mistakes. 
It results therefore that it is more difficult to make abstract 
additions of 2 than additions of double sous. In the latter case, 
the attention is doubtless better fixed and more affected by the 
concrete character of the experiment. 

It can easily be seen that our imbeciles are not brilliant cal- 
culators; all the examples that we have cited are full of curious 
errors which they commit; and what completely proves that their 
arithmetical faculty is but little developed, is that sub-normal 
children, whom we have brought together in the special classes, 
are all weak in number work, much weaker than in spelling 
or reading. 

There exists therefore a remarkable contrast between the ani- 
mal and the verbal intelligence of number. Victor, who cannot 
correctly count 4 sous placed on the table, shows a surprising 
ability in the little game with the hand which consists of counting 
them without counting them, so to speak, having only a simple 
sensorial idea of their number. This ability resembles that which 
they show in comparing lines, weights, and even in perceiving 
the distance and the position of objects. They have without 
any doubt some of our sensorial faculties; these are as acute 
with them as with us. That which is specially lacking is the 
word, the key to abstract ideas and general conceptions. 



X. REASONING 
The Intellectual Acts in General 

We shall now study how our defectives perform certain in- 
tellectual acts. These intellectual acts consist in understanding, 
judging, explaining, defining, developing, inventing, imagining, 
deducing, demonstrating and in accomplishing a host of other 
operations which have for their object directly or indirectly 
the solving of problems; because real life proposes to us ques- 
tions without ceasing which are like barriers opposing themselves 
to our activity; our intelligence spends itself in finding a solu- 
tion to these problems; if it cannot solve them more or less well, 
we cannot adapt ourselves. 

It is clear that, in preceding pages, we have also been studying 
intellectual acts. To find the longer of 2 lines or the heavier 
of two weights is to compare, to judge, to comprehend. There 
is some intelhgence in all our acts; only the proportions of the 
difficulty vary; we have created up to this point, very slight 
difficulties; we shall now consider greater ones. 

All these difficulties may be reduced to the following formula: 
given one element, a, the problem consists in finding another 
element, h, which completes it. This can be explained by several 
dift'erent examples of which we shall cite only three. A question 
is put: "What is a horse?" This question is the element a. In 
finding the suitable definition for a horse, the element h is fur- 
nished. In the same way we present to someone a picture repre- 
senting persons seated around a table, upon which are glasses. 
The picture represents the element a. In giving the subject 
of the picture, in saying it represents a drinking scene, the ele- 
ment h is furnished. Last example; "Game of patience." Pieces 
of a card are shown with the instruction to reconstruct the card 
by patting the pieces together m the proper manner. The re- 
construction is the end, the element to be found, element h; 
the data of the problem form the element a. 

97 



98 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Pictures. For the perception of pictures, defectives behave 
almost exactly like very young, normal children; we fear we shall 
repeat what we have elsewhere said of the latter^ if we report 
in detail all that we have found true with imbeciles; but the 
study is so important for explaining the insufficiency of imbecile 
thought, that we shall be pardoned if we go back to it. The 
defective is fond of pictures; the picture is an excellent test, 
which catches his attention and amuses him, and when necessary 
dissipates his ill humor. In general the picture does not hold 
his attention long; he quickly exhausts it, and he wishes to see 
another. If he is asked to describe the picture presented to him, 
he does not reflect long; he finishes his description in a few words. 
The number of words that he uses might almost measure his 
intelligence. A middle grade imbecile, Duneize, to whom we 
show a collection of 16 pictures, gives on an average 2 words 
to a picture. A higher grade imbecile, Albert, gives 8 words 
on an average, while Griffon, a moron, employs an average of 
20. It is nevertheless the same collection. All this proves 
that one interests himself in things only in the measure in which 
he himself is intelligent; in other words, our interest in things 
comes from what we put into them as much as from what they 
offer to us. 

As to the nature of the work done on the pictures by defectives, 
it shows the same stages as among normal children. The lowest 
intellectual type is that of the enumerators, those who content 
themselves with briefly naming the principal objects which they 
see. Nearly all imbeciles belong to this type, but with a well- 
marked selective tendency. We have never encountered one 
who, like certain insane subjects mentioned elsewhere, described 
a picture from left to right. All our imbeciles go directly to 
persons, and what specially interests them is the sex of the per- 
sons. "That is a man — There are men — That is a woman — 
Those are women, etc." These are the replies that we most 
frequently receive, for pictures which contain many other things; 
from time to time, but more rarely, they designate animals, 
horses for instance and dogs, but the subject of the picture is 
passed by in silence. The imbecile does not bother himself 
to know "what that signifies." He concentrates upon the in- 

' The Development of the Intelligence among Children. 



REASONING 99 

ventory of persons; this brevity does not however prevent him 
from making many errors. One of them, looking at a scene 
of insurgents, where there were more than thirty persons, said 
"That is a man;" another looking at a picture of two men fighting, 
took one of the men for a horse, and said "There, that is a man, 
a man who is on horseback," and so forth. It. can be seen 
that even in limiting oneself to enumeration one can make 
mistakes. 

A stage higher, the enumeration mingles with description. 
The position of the person is noted with the action. Then among 
the more intelligent, generally the morons, there are true des- 
criptions expressed in complex sentences. This we believe is 
the limit; the moron does not go beyond descriptions, he never 
rises to general interpretation. Interpretation is a matter for 
normal intelligence. 

What do these experiments upon pictures prove? Two princi- 
pal facts, as we believe; first, the astonishing resemblance be- 
tween our imbeciles and normal children very much younger; 
besides this, a certain lack of intelligence and of comprehension 
which results in our imbeciles not entering into the meaning 
of the picture as they should. They stop at the first and most 
elementary image that presents itself to their minds; they see 
in the picture only the most apparent objects, those which are 
the most striking to them, and they do not at all attempt to 
divine what is not seen but which is only suggested. Theirs 
in an intelligence that lacks penetration. 

Definitions of words. Here is another subject upon which 
we do not wish to expand because it is treated elsewhere^ in re- 
lation to normal children and it turns out that our defectives 
give definitions that are absolutely analogous to those of children. 
Let us be brief. Recall the fact that normal children according 
to age and intelligence give three sorts of definitions. 

1. Simple repetitions: a chair is a chair. 

2. Definitions in terms of use. 

3. Definitions in terms superior to use: A chair is an object, 
a piece of furniture, it is made of wood. 

Among our defectives we find especially an abundance of 
definitions in terms of use; and they are such that if one did not 

2 The Development of the Intelligence among Children, p. 104. 



100 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

know the personality of those who gave them, they would be 
unhesitatingly attributed to normal children. 

Here are the replies of Victor, all by use. Victor, let us recall, 
is an imbecile fifty-three years old. 

Q. What is a house? 
A. To sleep in. 
Q. What is a fork? 
A. To eat with. 
Q. What is a mama? 
A. To eat. 

Q. What is a snail? (edible snail) 
A. To eat, monsieur. 
Q. And paper? 
A. To write on. 
Q. A paper-cutter? 
A. To cut paper. 
Q. A good trade? 
A. Don't know. 
Q. A railroad? 

A. (Imitates the whistle of a locomotive) 
Q. Goodness? 
A. Don't know. 
Q. Justice? 
A. For men. 
Q. Virtue? 

A. It is salad, (he understood lettuce — la laitue) 
Q. Charity? 

A. To give bread. (Eloquent simplicity which certainly was not 
conscious). 

Q. Solidarity? 

A. To be a soldier. (Was deceived by the similarity of sound) 

Q. Work? 

A. To dig up the garden. 

Q. Ambition? 

A. For soldiers. 

Q. Hope? 

A. Hope is for men. 

Q. Gluttony? 

A. To drink, and get drunk. 

The point of view remains constantly the same, that of use; 
he sees things in the most ordinary manner and one feels there 
is no reflection. 

The definitions of Albert belong to the same category; defini- 
tions by use, with a childish turn. 



REASONING 101 

Q. What is a house? 

A. A house .... well .... a house it is to rent. 

Q. A fork? 

A. It is to eat with. 

Q. A mama? 

A. She is to get ready things to eat. 

Q. A table? 

A. It is to eat on. 

Q. A chair? 

A. It is to sit on. 

Q. A horse? 

A. It is to work. 

Q. A snail? 

A. It is to eat. 

Q. A flea. 

A. It is to kill. 

Q. Charity? 

A. It is those who do good in the world. 

Q. Justice? 

A. It is those who do evil. 

Q. Goodness? 

A. Ah, goodness, it is to get angry. 

Q. Virtue? 

A. (after thinking a long while) I don't know. 

The replies of Beauvisage are identical. 

Q. A house? 

A. It is to lodge in. 

Q. A fork? 

A. It is to eat with. 

Q. A mama? 

A. (no reply) 

Q. A carriage? 

A. A carriage is to roll. 

Q. A horse? 

A. A horse, it is to draw the carriage. 

Q. A snail? 

A. That is to eat, snails. 

Q. A flea? 

A. A flea is on dogs. 

Q. Charity? 

A. To beg for money. 

Q. Justice? 

A. (after thought) It supports the world. 

The only conclusion which can be drawn from these notes 
is identical with what we have presented apropos of the experi- 



102 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

merits upon pictures. It can be seen that they define exactly 
like a young child. One can also say that they conduct them- 
selves in a very unintelligent manner, because, in truth, to resem- 
ble a young child, and to conduct oneself with but little intelli- 
gence, are synonymous. The lack of intelligence consists here 
in a very limited vision ; the use of things is evidently what strikes 
them the moment they think of things; it is what is obvious, 
what one sees without reflection; and this is why children and 
imbeciles accept the idea of use and are satisfied with it. Con- 
cerning their intelligence let us repeat what we have already 
said about the interpretation of pictures: it lacks penetration. 

The "game of patience." The last experiment which we shall 
cite, chosen from many others, is of a purely sensorial order; 
it is suitable for those who are not at all brilliant in the exercise 
of verbal intelligence. We cut a visiting card into ten pieces of 
the most varied form, triangles and polygons of different sizes. 
The problem is to reconstruct the visiting card by putting to- 
gether the fragments in the required order. We place an uncut 
card on the table and invite the subject to reconstruct a similar 
one from the pieces. The difficulty of this test is not measur- 
able; it depends not only on the number of fragments but upon 
their size and form. We have been able, by proceeding in differ- 
ent ways, to make easy combinations, and others very much 
more difficult. At first sight there seems no directing idea that 
can be followed as a guide in this game; one must attempt all 
sorts of mechanical combinations until one happens on the right 
one. This is not quite true. Notice first that the number of 
fragments is 10, that each presents on the average 3 sides; 
the number of sides then is 30; but the number of combinations 
which one could make with 30 elements is so great that it would 
take a whole life time to exhaust them. Nevertheless we have 
seen persons of normal intelligence reconstruct the card in two 
or three minutes. It must therefore be that the intelligence 
enters unconsciously into these attempts which seem the most 
mechanical. But how does this intelligence work? It is diffi- 
cult to discover. The subject performs a mental operation which 
in the main escapes us, because he does not speak. The study 
of defectives and their errors, should permit us to analyse these 
mental operations. All that we can verify is the intellectual 
activity of the subject, the reflections that he makes, the num- 



REASONING 103 

ber of his unsuccessful attempts, the manner in which he him- 
self judges these attempts; all this is impalpable as mechanism 
but proves a mental state of superior quality. This mental 
state is so important that when it is found it should have more 
weight than success, which might be lacking. It cannot be demon- 
strated that every normal person, without exception, must suc- 
ceed in our game of "patience." There is always chance in the 
game; one may be thrown out by a bad combination, to which 
one adheres, or again one may repeatedly pass close to the solu- 
tion without noticing it. Anyone may have his mind diverted. 
It would never occur to us to make this game a test of normal 
intelligence. 

Let us notice now our defectives. Duneize, (middle grade 
imbecile) after having received explicit directions, puts the pieces 
one after another in a line, like soldiers, and does not even dream 
of putting them together. One might question if she understood. 
In any case, the game consists in a reconstruction, the recon- 
struction supposes a uniting of the different parts. She cannot 
form even a remote idea of all this. 

Albert does better because he puts the pieces together, and 
attempts to form a figure; but he makes no serious effort; he 
puts them together haphazard, and the operation once accom- 
plished, he does not change their position, and prevents all pos- 
sibility of success by allowing them to overlap. His figure pre- 
sents two faults: the first is that in its exterior form, it in no 
way resembles an oblong; the second is that in its interior it 
presents empty spaces. We point out to Albert the two defects 
of his construction, then we show him the card which ought to 
serve him for model: 

Q. Is it like this? (showing the card) 
A. Oh, no, because it is broken there. 
Q. But could you not make it like that? 
A. (with a convinced air) Oh! no. 

This absence of continuation of effort is characteristic of such 
subjects; they do not make a series of trials and errors, as do 
so many normals; they dispose the pieces in any order that hap- 
pens, and then sit motionless before their failure, making no fur- 
ther attempt. 

Griffon (moron) is more clever, he brings the edges of the 
pieces together exactly, and is careful not to let them overlap. 



104 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

In his first attempt, he works completely at random, as though 
he had lost sight of the model card, and his construction leaves 
an empty space, without in any way forming an oblong as to 
exterior form. We point this out to him. He begins again. 
His second attempt is better than the first, he succeeds in eliminat- 
ing the empty space and thus his first error is corrected. But 
he cannot bring the whole to resemble an oblong. After many 
other equally fruitless attempts, we are convinced that Griffon 
cannot succeed because he does not improve. 

Finally Bard, high grade moron, begins the work with more 
reflection. She compares the dimensions of the pieces with those 
of the model; she fills the spaces left by the large pieces then 
she brings the large ones together, constantly keeping in mind 
the general form. "I don't believe that that is it," she says, 
and she begins again, turns and returns the pieces, and finally 
succeeds. 

Here is certainly a simple experiment — child play one would 
say. But it is on the contrary quite complicated and we shall 
find difficulty enough in completely analysing it. What we have 
established is that in presenting the card intact we set a definite 
end to be attained, that end being to construct a figure having the 
form and size of the card. One must adapt oneself to that end, 
and this experiment has, like all the rest which are made in psychol- 
ogy, though in a more marked manner perhaps, the character 
of an act of adaptation. The different combinations which 
are made are the means employed to attain that end. During 
the test the hand is continually directed ; there is, as it were an 
inner critic which counsels us, guides us, prevents us from commit- 
ting an error or warns us when one is committed. Therefore we 
make no combination which could create an empty space, or 
if we commit this error we correct it immediately; in the same 
way we do not lose sight of the general form, and if some combina- 
tion causes us to lose the outline we abandon it at once. It is 
by this direction and this control that we bring our work to a 
good end, and it is by the absence of control that Albert and Griffon 
fail; like us the two defectives bring the pieces together and try 
combinations, but they have not as clear a view of the end to be 
attained, they do not judge as surely the means they employ; 
with them, chance takes all the ground which with us is occupied 
by logic; and since chance cannot alone bring the result they fail. 



REASONING 105 

An analogous explanation answers for other tests of adjustment 
of which we shall cite simply two: j&nd rhymes for a given word; 
construct a sentence containing three given words. Here again 
we furnish a frame to fill, an end to attain; and our defectives 
fail. Certain ones are incapable of finding any solution what- 
ever, they cannot cite a single rhyme, or they cannot imagine 
a sentence containing the three words. Others like Griffon, 
who have more activity of intelhgence, find many solutions, 
but they are false; thus the words they give do not rhyme, and 
the sentences they form have no sense. 

What conclusions can we draw from all this? We do not 
say absolutely that a defective cannot adapt himself, that he 
cannot represent to himself the end, and that he does not try 
to adjust his means to this end. What we do say is that he 
has not been able to adapt himself to the very special difficulty 
which we have empirically chosen for him, and that if we dimin- 
ish the difficulty he will adapt himself. Instead of cutting the 
card into 10 pieces, let us be satisfied by cutting it into two or 
three, and certainly Albert would succeed in reconstructing it. 
There is therefore in all this only a question of degree. The 
work of an imbecile has this great fault of adopting the first 
combination which comes, however crude it may be; it is chance 
which leads him to put one piece near another; he holds to this 
and does not change the combination even when shown that it 
is wrong. In other words, he takes what is nearest him, making 
no effort to look beyond; his intelligence, let us say it once more, 
lacks penetration. 

Let us content ourselves for the moment with this expression. 
Later, at the end of the work, when we set forth a scheme of 
thought, we shall return to this analysis and push it farther. 



XI. SUGGESTIBILITY THROUGH DOCILITY 

If, according to our custom, we attempt to divine the facts be- 
fore investigating them, and consequently conjecture the influence 
that age and mental development might exercise upon sug- 
gestibility, we shall make two preliminary remarks. In the 
first place, it is incontestable that inferior beings have less judg- 
ment than superior ones, and we have seen by many examples 
how often imbeciles lack judgment. Since it is by the accuracy 
of his judgment as much as by the quality of his character that 
an individual combats the judgments of those about him, we 
shall expect to find that those who lack judgment are more 
credulous than others. Besides every one knows that the child 
is more credulous and more suggestible than the adult. The 
"why" of his curiosity is readily satisfied with the first "because" 
that comes along; and nothing is easier than to impress him, 
intimidate him, and render him obedient; however unaccustomed 
one is to school children, one must recognize that the power 
of direction which is exercised over them is made possible by 
their age. All these considerations lead to a provisional con- 
clusion, which is this: it is probable that suggestibility, other 
things being equal, must decrease as the intellectual level rises. 

Is this true? Yes, certainly. But observation will give us 
some instructive details. It will show us first and above all 
that two forms of suggestibility exist, the one only apparent, 
the other very real. 

To appreciate the suggestibility of a person, one must be able 
to compare him to some one else taken as a type, who has been 
submitted to the same influence. It will not suffice to reproduce 
examples and incidents of suggestion accomplished; that might 
be amusing but it does not constitute a criterion. One must 
find out whether an imbecile placed under the sway of the same 
suggestion as a normal, reacts in the same way, or with more 
intensity or with less. 

Several years ago, one of us published methods for submitting 
a waking adult to suggestion and for measuring his suggestibility. 

106 



SUGGESTIBILITY 107 

Many of those methods are not appHcable to an imbecile, be- 
cause they require an amount of intelHgence and of attention 
that he does not have. Thus there is one method that con- 
sists in copying hnes of increasing length presented separately; 
the subject is so impressed, after a time, by the regular increase 
that when presented with lines equal in length to the longest, 
he believes them to be still increasing and draws them constantly 
longer and longer. Albert is not sensible of this increase in 
length, because he does not notice it, in fact when a line is given 
him to copy, he pays no attention to its length; and if two unequal 
lines are shown him, the inequality does not show itself in his 
copy. One cannot be surprised then if he remains insensible 
to the increased length of the lines. In order to subject an imbecile 
to suggestion, one must place oneself at his level. Without this 
precaution one would be in danger of believing that an imbecile 
is not suggestible, and that would be the very opposite of the truth. 

Another method which we have before indicated for the study 
of normals, succeeds equally well with imbeciles. One shows 
them for a certain length of time, a card-board presenting a great 
number of objects and designs; then one questions them upon 
their incomplete recollection, introducing into the questions 
numerous snares for suggestion; for instance, one makes use of 
an alternative question; the stamp that was shown was green, 
and one asks, "Was that stamp red or green?" or one asks the 
shape of the hat worn by a person who in reality was bare-headed. 
An adult, submitted to these leading questions, does not notice 
that he is being pushed gently in a definite direction, and that 
a hand is being laid upon his thought; this action remains un- 
conscious or more often semiconscious. He has a vague feeling 
of uncertainty, of uneasiness, almost of embarrassment; and 
from time to time, he resists the suggestion completely, or else 
he escapes by an expression of doubt, analogous to this: ''I do 
not know; I cannot recall exactly." One can thus count the 
number of snares he has avoided and approximately measure his 
suggestibility. It is a measure, because on the one hand, all the 
questions are written in advance and the experimenter does not 
change a single word, and on the other hand, one knows the 
average number of snares avoided by the subjects. In general 
they avoid a good half. 

Albert, our imbecile, fell promptly into all. His suggestibility 



108 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

is much greater than the average for adults; and what is more, 
he has none of those states of doubt and uneasiness so frequent 
among normals. He replies immediately, without hesitation, 
and with a perfect tranquillity. Beauvisage, notwithstanding 
her rebellious character, comes under the influence of the experi- 
ment and falls into the snare many times, though rather less 
frequently than Albert. 

It is evident that these methods, arranged for normals, are 
too delicate for imbeciles. They must have less delicate ones 
and we are going to present a series of tests which we have devised 
for them, and which are for them like garments cut to measure. 
In order to have terms of comparison we have repeated each 
test upon other patients in the asylum. 

Assent without motive. There is a first sign of suggestibility 
which is easy to arouse among imbeciles; it is giving assent to 
an obscure affirmation or simply to the interjection "Isn't that 
so?" It is sufficient to look at them and remark with authority 
these few words "Isn't that so?" even without saying anything 
else. Immediately they reply "Yes," as though one had proclaimed 
a truth. It is a sign of suggestibility which can be brought out 
among school children, especially among those very young, 
from seven to eight years; toward fourteen years, a pupil often 
remains unmoved, does not reply, or looks at one in an astonished 
way, or even demands an explanation. 

The re-filling of a box. We have here the same compliance 
in following an order the repetition of which would give offense 
to a normal. If one overturns a box of pins before them and 
says, "Gather these up," they gather them with whatever skill 
and activity they may possess. When they have finished, we 
overturn the box again, and scatter the pins on the table; one 
does not even need to renew the order; they understand what is 
expected of them, and they willingly gather the pins up again, 
without showing astonishment, without asking why they are 
given such an utterly useless task. They are profoundly serious, 
and one sometimes sees some choice examples of stupidity. Albert, 
for instance, gathers up the scattered pins with the greatest 
care, and is even so scrupulous that as he collects them he ar- 
ranges the heads to stand together, and holds them between his 
thumb and forefinger; then when a little bundle is collected, he 
throws them pell-mell into the box which causes him to lose all 



SUGGESTIBILITY 109 

the benefit of the arrangement. How far could one carry this 
experiment? Albert gathered them up five times in succession 
and that took nine minutes. At this point we stopped, not be- 
cause his docility was exhausted but our patience. Albert had 
not murmured in any way nor made the least observation. Vic- 
tor gathered up the pins twelve times in succession, without 
any remark, showing the same docility. 

Is this a form of suggestibility peculiar to imbeciles? 

Yes and no. Many normals have obeyed us when the experi- 
ment was given under special conditions of seriousness and decorum, 
as when they were sick in a hospital, or called in by a doctor, 
or when they imagined that there was the interest of study in 
the exercise, from which a benefit to their health would result. 

In fact many dementia patients have obeyed us when we 
subjected them to this treatment, and have refilled the box 
a great number of times. Others have resisted, or have made a 
great many reflections aloud, showing that they sought for but 
could not understand the purpose of our order. One subject, 
a victim of senile dementia, was remarkable for his resistance. 
In a word it has seemed to us that one need not be clearly sug- 
gestible to refill the box. 

The chair is called a cork screw. One must make the same com- 
mentaries upon the following experiment, which seems to realize 
one of the most daring suggestions. We rise, we take a chair 
and show it to the imbecile. 

Q. What is that? 
A. A chair. 

Q. Serious mistake! It is not a chair, it is a cork screw, (a pause) 
Let us see, what is this? (and we present again the chair) 
A. A cork screw. 
Q. Upon what are you sitting? 
A. Upon — a cork screw. 

This test succeeds invariably with all our imbeciles, even the 
most rebellious; and one can believe that it would require a 
very low mentality to thus consent to change the name of a 
familiar object. It is evident that in a company of friends 
one who attempted to try this experiment would have very little 
success. But it is altogether different at the hospital and in 
the atmosphere where we are working. We have repeated the 
ceremony of this sort of re-naming with very many dementia 



110 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

subjects who are in no way suggestible; and we have not yet 
encountered a single one who had the idea of not submitting 
to our wish. What did these dementia patients really think? 
Probably that it was a caprice on our part, a lack of seriousness. 
In any case they obeyed like our imbeciles. Therefore these 
first experiments of suggestion prove nothing, because they 
succeed upon a host of patients and probably upon those in 
health as well. 

The suggestion of the dog. We arrive now at suggestions very 
much more profound,which shock good sense and cannot succeed 
except where persons are really suggestible. 

The suggestion of the dog is a very complicated scene which 
we do our best to act out. In the first place we talk with our 
collaborator, and ask him in a loud voice to bring the dog that 
is in the yard into the room. He consents. We open the door, 
and call Follette, and allow the imaginary dog to enter, and 
with many gestures, and much demonstration make him jump 
upon a chair placed near the imbecile. Then we say to the 
latter : 

Q. Do you see the pretty dog? 

A. Yes, monsieur .... 

Q. He is nice, isn't he? 

A. Yes. 

Q. Caress him 

Denise, who is demonstrative, takes the chair, lifts it and 
brings the seat to her mouth; a great kiss resounds. 

With Albert the scene is prolonged, and takes on more breadth, 
because Albert speaks. 

Q. What color is the dog? 

A. It is white. 

Q. Is its hair curly? 

A. No, it is white. 

Q. Caress it, why don't you? 

Albert passes his hand gently across the cane of the chair. 

Q. Here is a biscuit. Make him eat. Does he eat? 
A. (after having made the appropriate mimicry, but soberly) Yes, 
monsieur. 

Q. Tell me, my dear Albert, what will you do with this dog? 
A. What will I do? I will feed him. 



SUGGESTIBILITY 111 

Q. Yes, but do you think you would be allowed to have a dog in this 
place? 

A. Oh, no. 

Q. Well, if they scold you what will you say? 

A. I could say nothing. 

Q. Do you think they would see it? 

A. Oh, yes, they would see it. 

Q. Couldn't you hide it? 

A. Oh! no. 

Q. Perhaps you could! 

A. Perhaps so. 

Q. You ought to give him a little walk about the room .... 

A. (Rising, and whistling to the dog) Come, come! 

Q. Take him to the steps. 

A. (To the dog) Go to the steps! Go, jump! 

We see that the imbecile does not at all develop the sugges- 
tion given him. His lack of vocabulary and especially of imagina- 
tion, render him brief; he keeps the hallucination just as it is 
given to him. This has very little resemblance to the mimicry 
and the loquacity of a hysteric under suggestion, especially of 
Baret, that brilliant subject of the Salpetriere, who did not stop 
short of literature, and made of the least suggestion a romance 
or a poem. 

Griffon (moron) received the suggestion of the dog and ac- 
cepted it as completely as Albert did. He lowered his head, and 
seemed very timid. When the dog had jumped upon the chair, 
Griffon, at our invitation, stretched out his hand toward the 
chair to caress the dog, but he did it with only the faintest ges- 
ture; he seemed abashed by what was asked of him. 

It is needless to add that patients, other than our defectives, 
are not susceptible to this suggestion. An old woman, with senile 
dementia, before whom we played the scene, looked at us with 
disdain and shrugged her shoulders. A young woman, who 
shows that she does not lack intelligence when one can distract 
her a moment from her maniacal excitement, laughed in our 
face and said, ''I won't do anything." Even a subject very 
much advanced with general paralysis, showed himself skeptical, 
''Where is your dog?" he asked, looking under the table; then 
he sat back saying with assurance, "There is no dog here." 

The suggestion of the General. Here is another hallucination 
which succeeded with Albert. We give it in detail because 
Albert here plays a role more active than in the preceding case. 



112 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

It is what we call the "hallucination of the General." It is 
so audacious that we did not dare try it upon any subjects that 
we did not already know to be very susceptible to suggestion; 
we should have covered ourselves with ridicule. 
We said very seriously to Albert: 

Q. I have something very interesting to tell you. A General is com- 
ing here very soon. The General comes to see you. Unfortunately Dr. 
Simon and I are obliged to leave. Will you receive the General in our 
place? 

A. Yes, Monsieur. 

Q. Ah! here he is! 

We go to the door. An exchange of salutations takes place 
with the imaginary General. Albert is presented to him. Albert 
gets up and bows in his turn. The General is made to sit down 
near him. Albert, never very active, says nothing. But he is 
serious and is far from laughing or ridiculing. We wait. Noth- 
ing happens. As the silence threatens to continue and as, natur- 
ally, the General is as far from being loquacious as the imbecile, 
we whisper to Albert — . 

Q. Talk to the general, why don't you .... 

Then Albert, in a natural voice, speaks to him, says several 
words, and seems to wait for a replj'', then says more words; 
we can represent this dialogue of one person in the following 
manner : 

Albert — Monsieur General .... 
The General — 

Albert — Monsieur General, things are going very well. 
The General — 

Albert — Well I worked in the market every morning, I made 20 sous. 
The General — 

Albert — Yes, I had an employer 
The General — 

Albert — It suited me very well. 
The General — 

Albert — And then I did errands, and helped in the house. I swept the 
rooms, and I acted as porter. 
The General — 
Albert — That is all. Monsieur General. 

We understand by that last sentence that the conversation 
is finished. It is very impressive. One would think he was in 



SUGGESTIBILITY 113 

the presence of some high personage on a tour who visits a hospi- 
tal and addresses a few kindly words to a workman. That would 
take place about as Alfred imagines and it is curious that the 
whole of such a conversation could have been carried on by an 
imbecile. 

In order not to lose this scene, we photographed Albert and 
the General together. Then, as the presence of the General 




FIG. 18. THE SCENE OF ALBERT WITH THE GENERAL. THE PICTURE WAS 
TAKEN AFTER SAYING TO ALBERT: "THE GENERAL IS SEATED IN THAT 
CHAIR. SIT DOWN BESIDE HIM AND WE WILL TAKE YOUR PICTURES TO- 
GETHER." 

might become burdensome, we made him leave and Alberts 
at our request, accompanied him to the door, bowing as he left- 
In order to know if the memory of this hallucination (admit- 
ting that it was one) persisted or if all was forgotten, we ques- 
tioned Albert twenty-one days after it happened. He remembered 
everything and seemed convinced of the reality of what was 
suggested to him. 



114 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. What did I show you on that chair? 

A. A little dog. 

Q. And with whom did I photograph you? 

A. With the General. 

Q. What was the General like? 

A. He was dark. 

Q. But his costume? 

A. It was maroon. 

Q. And his hat? 

A. It was maroon also. 

Q. What else do you remember? 

A. I took the little dog for a walk. 

Q. And then? 

A. I made him jump. 

Q. Here, in this room? 

A. Yes. 

Q. What was the color of the little dog? 

A. He was white. 

Are there any limits to this suggestibility? It seems so easy 
to handle, even without preparation of any kind, that one would 
be inclined to believe that an imbecile is soft wax. But we are 
inclined to believe rather that it is their deference for us which 
makes them so. It is certain that we do not succeed in making 
our imbeciles do and say all that we wish. Thus Albert consents 
to be called Victor and when, after giving him a lesson, we ask 
his name he says Victor. But Victor will not accept this ex- 
change. He refuses to say that his name is Albert. He offers 
the same resistance for a change in the names of the days. One 
of our experiment days is Saturday, the day before his sister 
comes to visit him; as she always brings him a package of to- 
liacco this visit seems to him very important; he knows that it 
will take place next day and no one can make him change. Hear 
him speak. 

Q. Is today Thursday? 

A. No, monsieur, it is Saturday, (laughing in a mischievous way) 
You want to tease me. 

Albert will hot let himself be taken in any more than the others. 

Q. What day is today? 

A. Saturday. 

Q. Are you sure? 

A. Yes, I am sure. 

Q. I have heard say it was P>iday. 



SUGGESTIBILITY 115 

A. No, it is Saturday. 

Q. Listen, I am going to prove to you that it is Friday. Yesterday 
was Thursday. But the day which comes after Thursday is Friday. So 
you see it is Friday. 

A. No, It is Saturdaj'. 

Curious resistance in a person who ordinarily swallows the 
greatest absurdities. Several minutes before Dr. Simon had 
gone out, and we had said to Albert. 

Q. How old do you think Dr. Simon is? 
A. I don't know exactly. 
Q. Well, about how old? 
A. Perhaps fourteen years! 

Q. Oh! more than that! Some one told me he is a hundred. Do you 
believe he can be that old? 
A. Oh! yes. 

Whence comes this striking difference of attitude? We think 
we have discovered it. In the first place, Albert, like Victor 
and Denise, is always ready to acquiesce in what he does not 
understand. A hundred years is only a word for them, a word 
void of sense. They do not resist. Besides when one suggests 
to them a dog or a General one does not run counter to any well 
established convictions; but they insist upon Saturday because 
it is the day before Sunday when their relatives visit them, they 
expect their relatives, and this expectation is important to them; 
and they know also that a certain piece of money is worth ten 
sous and they will not permit it to be called anything else. They 
are therefore in an antagonistic state which opposes itself to 
suggestion. We shall cite several other examples quite typical 
of lack of suggestibility. 

Q. You know that Dr. Simon has gone .... 

A. Yes .... (In reality Dr. Simon is there at the table, writing 
our dialogue). 

Q. Sit in his place .... You shall be the doctor. (Albert gets 
up, but is embarrassed.) 

Q. Sit down in his chair since it is vacant! 

In the end Albert does not sit. He does not speak, he seems 
confused, like a child caught doing wrong. 
Another suggestion : a theft. 

Q. Here, Albert, do you see that music-box on the table? 
A. Yes, monsieur. 



116 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. When no one is looking go and take it. You will steal it and bring 
it to me and I shall put it in my pocket. (Albert goes to the table, but 
does not take the object.) 

Q. See here! What are you doing? Why didn't you take it? 

A. (Embarrassed) Because I mustn't. 

Q. But no one will know you have taken it. 

A. The watchmen. 

Thus even the most docile imbeciles can resist suggestion when 
they have some reason for resistance. 

Now when they yield, when they believe or seem to believe 
blindly what we say to them, is it because of the weakness of 
their mental level? Does their suggestibility depend upon their 
intelligence? One might think so; and we admit, moreover, 
that there is a partial truth in this supposition. But the princi- 
pal factor of their suggestibility is not their intelligence but their 
docile character. The proof of this is that we have encountered 
imbeciles less intelligent than Albert, who refuse to yield to our 
suggestion. Cretin would not even look at the dog; and Beau- 
visage, asked to caress it, replies directly, "There is no dog." 
This is sufficient proof that the suggestibility of Albert does not 
come from his mental level but from the deference which he has 
for us. But can deference render any one susceptible to sugges- 
tion? This is a delicate point. If the preceding interpretation 
is correct, it leads to the following conclusion. Our imbeciles 
have done for us what we asked simply to give us pleasure, and 
as for the hallucinations of the dog and the General, nothing 
proves that they really existed. Their entire mimicry may have 
come from a desire to be agreeable. An American, Sidis, has 
well sustained this last curious and paradoxical opinion, cer- 
tainly false in general, that suggestions acting upon hysterics 
determine only one thing, a simulation wholly exterior to the 
phenomena suggested. This may be true of certain ones, not 
of all, because there are infinite individual variations in the man- 
ner of yielding oneself to suggestion. But why not admit the 
theory of Sidis for our compliant imbeciles? 

For a long time we hesitated; in order to decide the question, it 
must be put in a precise manner and we were afraid to spoil our 
subject, Albert, by questioning him; because to speak to him of 
his hallucinations, would be to ask him to analj'se them, to give 
him doubts, to put him in the way of the truth. When the experi- 



SUGGESTIBILITY 117 

ments were ended, a month after they were begun, we decided 
to make this inquiry. In what follows we reproduce the dialogue 
literally, according to our custom. 

Q. Tell me, Albert, do you recall the story of the dog? 
A. (He blushes at first and does not reply for a long while, hanging 
his head). 

Q. What color was it? 

A. It was white. 

Q. And then what else did you see? 

A. The General. 

Q. What was he like, the General? 

A. He was brown. 

Q. What did he do? 

A. He talked with me. 

Q. And then? 

A. (No reply). 

So far Albert seems to admit the reality of his perceptions. 
Let us attempt with much discretion to test his convictions. 

Q. Very well, that little dog, and then the General, were they people 
like us? 

A. Ah! the General, yes. (He has not understood the point of the 
question, he wishes to say that we are not like dogs). 

Q. But is it true that you have seen him? 

A. Yes. (He smiles, his eyes glisten). 

Q. Well, why does that make you laugh? 

A. Because you talk to me of the General. (Seems confused — laughs 
as he lowers his head). 

Q. But why do you laugh in speaking of the General? 

A. It's a joke you played on me. 

Here then the truth is out. 

Q. But have you seen him? 

A. (With hesitation) No, I didn't see him. 

Q. But you talked with him. 

A. (Hesitating) Yes. 

Q. He said something to you? 

A. He asked me what I was doing. 

Q. You heard him? 

A. (Timidly) Yes. 

Q. Then you heard him? 

A. Yes, I heard him. 

Here again it would seem he is, under the spell of the sugges- 
tion, even though in our questions we put no accent of authority. 



.118 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. Tell me how all this happened. 
A. The General talked to me. 
Q. But you thought it was not true? 
A. (Embarrassment — smile — no reply). 

Q. But at the time you thought there was a General there? 
A. Oh! no! 
Q. But why? 
A. Oh, I do not know. 
Q. But the dog, you believed that. 

A. The dog? Oh! yes, because I know that it is an animal. (Unintelli- 
gible reply.) 

Q. You thought there was a dog on the chair? 
A. (Timidly) Yes. 
Q. What? 
A. No. 

Q. But you caressed it ... . You put out your hand like that 
. . . . You were only making believe? 
A. I don't know. 

Q. Was it to please me that you made believe? 
A. To be sure. 

Here at last is the confession. We can only judge it by an 
impression of the whole. We believe that Albert was never 
duped. And now he is a little ashamed of his compliance and 
is in a very troubled and complicated mental state when we 
question him. He still wishes to agree with us, for he is too timid 
to resist; hence his contradictions. All the time he tries to divine 
our thoughts; we could still make him say anything we wished. 
It is the same with a docile pupil, obedient, industrious, who, 
called to the Director's office, conducts himself like an automaton. 
There is therefore a particular form of suggestibility which is 
wholly superficial, caused by compliance and which depends 
upon temperament. It is what might be called docilit3\ 

It is important to emphasize this, because the error that we 
have been upon the point of making, other alienists have made. 
Kraepelin, for instance, has the habit of testing the judgment 
of certain dementia subjects, by studying their attitude when 
an absurd affirmation is made to them. One day he asked an 
old woman, a dementia case, "Isn't the snow black?" And she 
answered playfully, "Yes, if one puts soot on it," he concluded 
very justly that the woman did not lack judgment. We think 
she has also the courage of her opinion. It is not proved by any 
means that those who acquiesce in an absurd proposition, spoken 
with authority by a doctor, have fallacious minds ; they are rather 



SUGGESTIBILITY 119 

the extremely docile, who do not dare contradict. It is impor- 
tant, therefore, when one makes studies upon judgment not to 
confound false judgment and docility. 

Precisely what is docility? One may consider it, as we our- 
selves have considered it in all that precedes, as an appearance 
of suggestibility, a sort of simulation of real suggestibility. But 
it seems to us more philosophical to admit that it constitutes 
a suggestibility of a particular form. There are, in our opinion, 
two forms of suggestibility which have not been sufl&ciently 
differentiated; the suggestion of hallucinations, of ideas, of con- 
cepts on the one hand, and the suggestion of acts, of words, of 
mimicry on the other. Docility is a suggestibility which shows 
itself simply in acts, words, attitudes. The fact has escaped 
notice that the mental conditions of the two orders of phenomena 
are not the same; the formation of an hallucination supposes 
not only a false perception, but a suspension of the critical sense; 
pn the contrary, for the execution of a suggested act, it is not 
necessary to have a consistent conviction. This latter sugges- 
tion encroaches less upon the personality. It is not the reason 
of the agent which bends, it is his will, his character. One may 
have suggestibility of character without having suggestibility 
of reason. 

With our imbeciles these two forms of suggestibility exist; 
let us recall the experiments with alternative questions; Albert 
and Beauvisage are more sensitive to this than some normals; 
and in this case it is truly a question of a suggestibility which 
paralyses the critical sense. The intellectual level certainly has 
an influence upon this suggestibility; it is proportionally high 
as the level is low. Besides this, imbeciles, at least those who 
do not belong to the rebelhous type, have suggestibility of char- 
acter, in other words, an extreme docility; and this may cause 
an illusion in regard to their suggestibility of reason; one can 
believe that they are credulous and completely duped, when 
they are simply pretending. We would never have believed 
that imbeciles could have thus played the comedy of complacency 
with such a serious air. In truth the moral of this story of the 
General is that we believed we had deceived an imbecile, whereas 
it was the imbecile who deceived us. And with modesty we 
apply to ourselves the ancient saying of Merlin the enchanter, 
"Whoever seeks to deceive others often deceives iiimself." 



XII. HOW A MORON CAN HAVE L'ESPRIT FAUX 

One of the most curious of the psychological problems which 
are set for us by imbeciles is that relative to the development 
of their judgment. It goes without saymg that imbeciles have 
but little judgment, but do they make errors of judgment? Or, 
to speak in a general way, does mental evolution proceed by suc- 
cessive steps in which one finds at first an abundance of false 
judgments, then little by little, more correct judgments? Sup- 
pose two beings A and B who are at very different mental levels. 
If A is inferior to B in intelligence will he be more liable to false 
judgment? That is the question. Without hoping to answer 
it entirely we shall try to look at it closely by studying a very 
curious defective, named Griffon. 

We have often spoken of him ; it is necessary to indicate briefly 
his intellectual level, in order to allow the fallaciousness of his 
mind to be better appreciated. 

He is a moron and not an imbecile, because he can read; he 
reads fairly well, with good intonation; he writes from dictation 
and spontaneously; he can compose a coherent letter by him- 
self if one gives him the subject; he makes many mistakes in 
spelling, but one can understand the text. In arithmetic he 
can add, subtract, and multiply; he fails in a problem of propor- 
tion. This puts him at the level of instruction of the second year 
of our elementary course; it is about the level of a child of eight 
years. But he also knows a good many things that are taught 
in the higher grades and even many that one learns only later 
in life. As to instruction he is, therefore, far superior to an 
imbecile; but he is not a normal. A normal might have had less 
instruction, but he would succeed in the psychological tests in 
which Griffon fails. 

In fact Griffon cannot arrange five weights in order; he cannot 
succeed in ''the game of patience," nor find rhymes, etc., tests 
easily passed by children of from eight to ten years.' 

' We refer to some results furnished by our measuring scale of intelli- 
gence. (See "The Development of the Intelligence of Children," p. 182.) 

120 



L ESPRIT FAUX 



121 



Socially also he is a moron, because lie lives at the expense 
of his famil}^ and is not capable of following a trade. He has 
been hired as a laborer by many different employers and has 
been regularly dismissed at the end of two or three months. 
For a long while he has stayed at home where he busies himself 
in cleaning the apartment. He is of a good disposition, but selfish, 




FIG. 19. 



GRIFFON, MORON TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD; MENTAL LEVEL OF 
A CHILD OF EIGHT YEARS. 



and shows a decided aversion to women. He has no vices and 
does not drink. His chief occupation is reading; he loves read- 
ing, even reads at night; so strong is this habit that if he has a 
book in his hand he will continue to turn the pages even when it 
is quite dark. We have this information from one of his rela- 
tives. If he were not a moron we should say that he was "un 
intellectuel." 



122 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

We have spoken of him as an extraordinary case of fallacious 
mind {esprit faux). This is a mental type which is rarely to be 
met with in such a degree of perfection cn^en among imbeciles 
and morons. Many of them have a lower level than Griffon; 
they have never been able to learn to read ; Ijut they do not talk so 
much nonsense. Intellectual inferiority, and what may be called 
a fallacious mind {esprit faux) are therefore two very different 
mental states; the first, at least, can manifest itself independently 
of the second. 

From the very beginning of our conversation with him Griffon 
utters a whole swarm of absurdities. Listen to him. We ask 
him to tell us about his apprenticeships ; he replies that he worked 
two months with a baker. 

Q. Why did you leave the baker? 

A. Someone was needed to take my place. 

Ridiculous reason! He takes the effect for the cause. He 
remained several years in Paris, living at the expense of his mother 
and not even attempting to find a place to earn a little money. 
We ask him: 

Q. Why did you not find another phice in Paris? 

A. We thought of returning to Chalons .... As I had still 28 
days to serve and 13 days .... 

Thus it was for such a motive that he remained doing nothing 
until he was almost thirty; because it was a question of leav- 
ing Paris to return to Chalons, where he had a military term to 
complete! 

He has served two years. We questioned him in legard to this. 

Q. Were they sometimes cross to you in the regiment? 

A. Oh, no, monsieur. We went to exercise twice every day. 

The reply has no bearing upon the questions. We ask him 
other questions about his family. 

Q. How many brothers and sisters have you ! 
.4. I have three brothers and one sister. 
Q. Give me the names of your brothers. 
A. Eugene Griffon, Armand Griffon, Valentine Griffon. 
Q. Eugene and Armand, that makes only two brothers, and then? Who 
is the third? 
A. It is I. 



l' ESPRIT FAUX 123 

He is therefore his own brother. We ask him many questions 
in order to find out the amount of liis information. In certain 
cases his errors can be attributed strictly to his ignorance, for 
instance when he tells us that Paris is the capital of the "Cote- 
D'or." It is, however, very serious ignorance. But in other 
cases the absurdity is undeniable, because he contradicts himself. 

Q. Who is the president of the Republic? 
A. M. Carnot. 
Q. What? 

A. At Lyons, , assassinated by Ravaillac, no, Cesario, in the month 
of June, '94. 

Q. He is still president? 

A. No, he is dead. 

Q. Who has replaced him? 

A. M. Felix Faure, who is deputy. 

Q. But now? Who is president of the Republic? 

A. It must be M. Casimir-Perier. 

Q. He is still president? 

A. Oh, I don't think so. He must have resigned. 

This is not ignorance, since he is quite well instructed; it is a 
singular error to name Carnot, then Perier as actual president; 
then add that one is dead, and that the other has resigned. 

Q. You read the paper? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. You are interested in it? 

A. I read about the accidents and the concerts. 

Q. Politics a little. 

A. Yes, Monsieur. 

Q. What are your political opinions? 

A. Catholic. 

Q. And then? 

A. Protestant. 

Q. And then? 

A. Jew. 

He seems not to understand the sense of the word and that one 
cannot be at the same time Catholic, Protestant and Jew. This 
does not mean that he has not had enough instruction, but he 
makes a singular use of his instruction. 

Q. What, river passes through Paris? 
A.^The Seine. 

Q. Where does the Seine empty? 
A. Into the Rhone. 



124 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. Where does the Rhone empty? 

A. Into the Lionne. 

Q. Where does the Lionne empty"^ 

.4. Into the Durance. 

Q. Where does the Durance empty? 

A. Into the Mediterranean Sea. 

Q. Where does the Mediterranean Sea empty? 

A. Into the Atlantic Ocean. 

Q. Where does the Atlantic Ocean empty? 

A. Into the Pacific Ocean. 

Q. Where does the Pacific Ocean empty. 

A. Into the Indian Ocean. 

Q. Where does the Indian Ocean empty? 

A. Into the Arctic Ocean. 

Q. Where does the Arctic Ocean empty? 

A. Into the Pacific Ocean. 

His historical information presents the same incoherence. 

Q. Who is Louis XIV? 
A. He is an emperor? 
Q. Do you know something of him? 

A. He administered justice sitting at the foot of an oak tree. I have 
seen that in a history, going to school. 

Q. What else do you know of Louis XIV? 

A. He was a Royalist. 

Q. What more? 

A. He held the government of the Republic. 

Q. How long were you in school? 

A. Until I was thirteen. 

Q. From what age? 

A. From seven years. 

Q. What do you know of the Revolution of '89? 

A. It was the working man who revolted against the people. 

Q. And then? 

A. They killed themselves. 

Q. And how did it all end? 

A. In a proposition of peace. 

Q. To whom? 

A. To the government. 

Notice carefully that in this nonsense there is, however, a basis 
of instruction. 

Q. Are all men equal? 

A. Sometimes. That depends upon the party to which thej' I^elong. 
Q. For instance? 

A. There are Catholics, Protestants, Jews, clericals, revolutionists, 
socialists, anarchists. 



l'esprit faux 125 

Q. But are they equal? 

A. They are about equal in death. 

Q. And in life? 

A. They are all about equal. They work together in the field, in the 
factories of the town, in business. 

Q. Is justice equal to all? 

A. Yes, monsieur, there must be someone to represent it. We are its 
representatives on earth. 

Q. Who represents it? 

A. The man and the woman. 

All this is said with the eyes lowered, in a gentle, timid, whining 
voice. The subject has not at all the manner of mocking us 
nor of being intoxicated with words. Observe that we do not 
lead him on to all these absurdities, we do not exercise any pressure 
over him, we make no suggestion. We know already and have 
demonstrated before, that in addressing an individual who is 
at the same time defective and docile (both these conditions are 
equally necessary) and asking him certain questions with author- 
ity, we can obtain from him unreasonable replies. Griffon is 
no exception to this rule. We could easily induce him to say that 
his name was Bertrand and not Griffon, that a thief is an honest 
man and that snow is red, and other absurdities, to which one 
might readily suppose that he subscribes for the sake of being 
agreeable. But what we are now describing is a totally different 
thing. It is the absurdities which we do not suggest, and which 
come from Griffon spontaneously, and for which he alone is re- 
sponsible. Let us cite other examples? 

Q. Who was Pasteur? 

A. A great savant who cured the rabies with the virus. 
Q. Tell me more about it. 

A . He invented machines for curing the rabies, using animals and rabbits . 
Q. And Napoleon? 

A. He was an emperor who commanded the army. 
Q. Gambetta? 

A. He was a savant, a deputy, who represented the republic. 
Q. Victor Hugo? 

A. He was a senator, deputy, who represented people at the Chamber of 
Deputies. 

Q. M. Thiers? 

A. He was a deputy of the Chamber of Deputies in Paris. 

Q. M. de Sans-Souci? (Name invented by us) 

A. He is a Merry Andrew, who plays the clown in the circus. 

Q. The Duke de Trevise? (Name invented by us) 



126 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

A. A man who represents a landed property. A reactionary. 

Q. M. Durand? (Name invented by us) 

A. He is a commercial traveler who deals in cloth. 

Q. Ali Bentailo? (Name invented by us) 

A. He is a king who represents savages. 

Some of these replies are grotesque, others are quite ingenious; 
the last three, for instance, correspond sufficiently well to the 
nature of the word we had invented. 

Q. Where does milk come from? 

A. From the cow that feeds on the grass in the fields. 
Q. Do oxen give milk? 

A. Not much. They drag the plow, they are made to work in the 
fields. 

Q. Where does ink come from. 

A. It is a plant they cultivate in Africa to make ink of in the factories. 

We will also cite his remarks upon portraits and pictures. 
A photograph representing an operatic singer in costume ap- 
pears to him to be a "harlequin in a boat with oars on a river, 
going to learn to swim in case of wreck, etc." 

Without question of any sort from us, he utters many absurdi- 
ties; for instance, on being asked to make a sentence containing 
the three words Paris, fortune, river, he does not hesitate to write 
the following sentence, which has no meaning: "This fortune of 
the river of the prairie of the portion of the god-father." 

Asked to recall the pictures shown to him, he cites two from 
memory correctly and seven others which he has not seen and 
which he invents. Asked to name samples of colors, he does so 
in the main, correctly; but when he comes to a gray tint, he says 
"tricolor." When asked to recount something which he has 
just read, he does so without sparing the absurdities. Thus he 
explains that a man has been killed in an accident on the street, 
and that he has been carried to the hospital in a serious condition; 
or again, reversing the facts, he recounts that robbers had arrested 
a commissioner of the police, and conducted him to the guard 
house, while of course the paper stated the exact opposite. 

It is clear that in condensing all these examples of absurdities 
we have made them seem exaggerated. Griffon, in an ordinary 
conversation, commits fewer errors of judgment than would appear 
from the above; one can even talk with him during a minute or 
two, without his making any break. It is when he is asked some- 



l'esprit faux 127 

what complicated questions that he is particularly apt to make 
these blunders. 

This moron has received, as we have said, some instruction; 
he can read and can write a passable letter; we had him write 
one to his parents; it was legible, comprehensible, correct, and 
without nonsense. He counts money well. His memory for 
immediate repetition of sentences is normal, and rises as high as 
26 syllables. His attention is good, and his reaction times al- 
though long, are not out of reason. 

At first sight one is tempted to attribute all his errors of judg- 
ment to his instruction. He seems to have received an amount 
of instruction out of proportion to his degree of intelligence. 
It would be a curious example of the results which are obtained 
in applying the ordinary methods of instruction to an subnormal 
subject. Evidently Moliere was right when he said that ''an 
educated fool is more a fool than an ignorant fool." But it 
would be unjust to accuse solely the school that Griffon 
attended until he was thirteen. There is in him a natural, con- 
genital defect, a weakness of judgment; this weakness has been 
put in clear light by the instruction he has received, but the in- 
struction is not the direct cause of the weakness. 

How are we to represent the state of his judgment? The errors 
of judgment which may be committed are of many different 
kinds. There are some that are plainly apparent, which come 
from the inexact use of words; persons suffering from senile de- 
mentia, and from aphasia often commit them; they take one 
word for another, or else forget the beginning of their sentence 
before they finish it, and hence they make utterly false asser- 
tions, of which they are not conscious. Other errors of judg- 
ment have a kind of system like those of persons suffering from 
melancholia or delusions of persecution, who persist in their 
false ideas, and sometimes even seek to demonstrate them by 
all kinds of reasons. 

The mistakes of Griffon do not belong to either of these cate- 
gories; they are errors of judgment very much more nearly akin 
to those which we normals commit. The mechanism of these 
errors seems to consist in a lack, a failure of evocation of the 
reasons which would show the falsity of the affirmation. It is 
what is called n'entendre qu'une cloche. How often, in fact, we 
accept the first idea that presents itself. How easily we allow 



128 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

ourselves to be prejudiced against people because we accept 
what others say against them, and we do not even think of what 
might be said for them. One could also attribute this error of 
judgment to negligence or to distraction. In any case, it is 
like a judgment by default, because the opposing party is not 
represented at the hearing. In each instance one might rebuke 
Griffon because he had not paid sufficient attention. Thus he 
does not notice the blunder he made when he counted himself 
among his own brothers; he does not notice that he absurdly 
calls a gray tint "tricolor;" he does not see that in putting three 
words into a sentence he has written something without sense, 
nor that he replies to a question which is incomprehensible for 
him, nor yet that he contradicts himself when he says that Casimir- 
Perier is actually president of the Republic, and that this same 
Casimir-Perier has resigned, etc. 

Wliat proves that he fails through lack of attention, lack of 
reflection, let us say through lack of control, is that he knows 
enough to correct himself, if he applies himself. Thus, search- 
ing for the name of the tint gray he says "tricolor." If some 
demented person having a fixed delusion, had made this error, 
.he would have explained it in a logical manner; for instance, by 
insisting that every color is truly tricolor, because it is made up 
of three fundamental colors, and other absurdities. Griffon said 
it without even noticing it; the proof of which is, that a month 
afterwards when we ask him the meaning of the word tricolor, 
he replies "The French flag is tricolor." We ask him again, "If 
we say that a table is tricolor what does that mean?" "That 
means," says Griffon, "that it is variegated." Evidently, the 
first time he had used incorrectly, without noticing it, a word 
whose meaning he understood. Another example: he said to 
us that at the time of the Revolution, the laboring class fired on 
the people. This is not a positive error of judgment, it is again 
a lapse, because on another occasion, when we asked him of 
what the people is made up he replied that the people is made 
up of the laboring class. 

But however innocent these lapses may be, they are neverthe- 
less marks of a peculiar mentality, when they are so abundant 
as with Griffon; and we have now to put the question which 
we raised at the beginning of this chapter; is it characteristic of 
a weak intelligence to commit so many errors of judgment? 



l'esprit faux 129 

We do not think so. We have indeed seen some imbeciles and 
some morons, whose intellectual level was equal to or even in- 
ferior to that of Griffon. None of them, if we except Cabussel, 
excelled as he does, in absurdities. Albert, for instance, protects 
himself from insidious questions by a simple "I do not know," 
and others are silent. This allows us to suppose that the falsi- 
ties of judgment are not a necessary consequence of weakness 
of intellectual level; they express rather a discord. This is the 
way it appears to us. Albert, Victor and many others are short 
in all their faculties, but their faculties are well coordinated. 
Without doubt their judgment is weak enough, but so is their 
imagination and their memory, all is weak, and consequently 
the intelligence is proportionately low. If it is true that the 
judgment acts as a check, it matters little that it is weak, since 
the motor which it must watch over and regulate has little power. 
On the contrary Griffon shows, like Cabussel, a certain intellec- 
tual activity, and even something more, a certain fertility and 
ingenuity of imagination. Question him and he never remains 
without a reply. He finds an answer for all, even for those things 
of which he is ignorant or which he does not understand. He 
tells you the origin of ink, he defines in the most fantastic manner 
the word which he does not know. In his inventions he shows 
some imagination; and there is some merit in his finding that 
M. de Trevise represents a landed proprietor and a reactionary, 
while M. Durand is the name of a commercial traveler; it is a 
work of invention which resembles that of a dramatic author, 
in due proportion of course. And it is in this slight intellectual 
activity, in this little gift of imagination that the secret of his 
absurd judgments may be found; he has too much imagination 
for his power of control, or too little control for his power of 
imagination. Truly it is not well for a defective to have too 
much imagination. 

Our general conclusion will be that the particular state to which 
we give the name of "esprit faux," a state which is sometimes 
to be found among imbeciles, does not correspond to a regular 
period of psj^chological evolution; it is a somewhat exceptional 
state, which results from a lack of harmony between the inven- 
tive faculties and the corrective faculties, like an equipage where 
the number of reins is not in proportion to the number of horses. 



XIII. A SCHEME OF THOUGHT 
I. Preliminaries 

The general impression which is obtained when one passes 
some time with imbeciles or idiots is that they are literally "les 
pauvres d'esprit," poor in mind. They do not differ from nor- 
mals as certain types of dements do, by unexpected and some- 
times original and fantastical phenomena which are like extra 
attachments to a well-known mechanism; the difference is not 
one of more but of less. The defective is a normal who lacks 
something. 

But in what does this lack consist? If ever the notion of higher 
processes and of inferior processes had any chance of application 
in psychology, it is truly applicable to this type of individuals. 
One feels that it is especially the higher part of the intelligence, 
the most delicate, the finest that is not developed in them; they 
are reduced to what is coarsest and, consequently, to what is 
the most simple, the most elementary and the most general in man. 

But this is only a very vague conclusion, and we must try 
to make it exact. It is curious to see how prone we are to hide 
behind words what we do not thoroughly understand. The 
above difference, when it has been employed to express the 
distinction between man and the animal, has received different 
names; in man, reason, in the animal, instinct. We have also 
used and abused the term degree. It has been said that the 
intelligence of a child differs from that of an adult in degree only. 
But in exactly what does this degree consist? And what distinc- 
tion can be made between the difference of degree and the dif- 
ference of nature? Authors do not agree upon the meaning 
of these expressions when they attempt to fathom them, which, 
by the way, they prudently avoid. In short, it is singular that 
the principle of psychic development should be so poorly defined 
that no one at the present moment can tell the essential dif- 
ference which separates the intelligence of a child from that 
of an adult. 

130 



A SCHEME OF THOUGHT 131 

Alienists and psycho-pathologists have at least had the merit 
of introducing one clear idea into this domain when they have 
admitted that with many dementia and hysteria cases the va- 
rious symptoms, delirium, convulsions, strokes, etc., can be ex- 
plained by two combined causes; the unchaining of automatism 
and the suppression, the paralysis, the inhibition — in a word 
the putting out of service, of the higher processes. This interest- 
ing conception, taken literally, leads us to admit that there 
exist in us two activities of a different nature, the one inferior, 
called the inferior psychism or automatism, the other superior, 
called reflection, will, the synthesis (la synthese). While those, 
who have pushed this conception farthest and have put the 
most ingenuity into developing it, have maintained that there 
are all the transitions possible between these two forms of men- 
tal activity, and that we pass gradually from the one to the other, 
other authors have not taken these reservations into account; 
they have seen here faculties so different that they have wished 
to attribute to them a different localization in the nerve centers; 
there are, according to them, certain parts of the brain devoted 
to the automatic life, while other centers have the higher func- 
tions of attention and reflection, coordination and perception. 
It has long been admitted that the frontal region of the brain 
is the seat of these higher processes. Recently, a neurologist, 
pushing this theory to the limit, has proposed to call the center 
of this higher life Center O, and he has introduced into the ex- 
planation of the psychological mechanism of various symptoms, 
like aphasia, hysteria, spiritism, and many other cases, the 
use of this center ''0," which sometimes excites, sometimes in- 
hibits the lower centers, sometimes is itself paralyzed, which 
thus permits the lower centers to develop a hyper-activity with- 
out restraint. 

Without doubt this hypothesis of two wholly different activities^ 
the one superior, creative, S3mthetic, the other inferior, con- 
servative, analytic, has already rendered great service to certain 
phases of mental pathology. Notably it appears to apply to 
hysteria, to mental dissolution, to obsessions, and to spiritism. 
But perhaps an exclusive consideration of these types of phe- 
nomena has tended towards a certain exaggeration, when one 
has attempted to form a general concept of the human mind, 
using this one sided hypothesis as a key. 



132 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Without wishing to combat this hypothesis directly, we shall 
here try to limit it. It does not apply indiscriminately to all 
types of subjects. It has been extended somewhat artificially 
to normals. We shall show by an extended study of defectives 
that it does not apply in any way to them; it does not explain 
in any way the character of their defects. It would not apply 
any better to children. In a word, it may be that we have a 
conception, which is valuable perhaps for certain modes of func- 
tioning of the mind ; but which is not, however, a general principle 
of the development or of the genesis of mind. 

There exist among certain imbeciles and among the unstable, 
fantastic ideas, impulses, sudden paroxysms of rage, wild pranks. 
Possibly one might admit that these episodical phenomena are 
explained by a bursting forth of this automatic life, that is to 
say in the modern phrase, a lack of synthesis; let us put it better: 
a simultaneous lack of coordination and of hierarchy. One 
may understand from this that these impulses take on so much 
importance because they have escaped the control of the higher 
faculties. So be it. But all defectives do not by any means 
present phenomena of this kind. Besides it is not because they 
present them that they are defectives. Outside of these accidental 
troubles they have a peculiar mental state, characteristic of 
defectives, which is imbecility, idiocy, or moronity as the case 
may be; and what we insist upon is, that in order to explain this 
chronic mental state, one has no right to speak of lack of synthesis, 
as is habitually done; here the expression has no sense whatever, 
and those who employ it are parrots. 

2. Distinction Between the Faculties and the 
Acquisitions 

In the analysis of the mental states of defectives, which we 
now begin, we shall make a fundamental distinction by which 
many subsequent misunderstandings may be avoided. We must 
not confound our mental faculties with the practical results, 
knowledge, acquisitions and powers of all sorts, which, thanks 
to these faculties, we acquire. 

The practical acquisitions are of the following order; reading, 
writing, arithmetic, professional skill, the manner of gaining 
one's living, etc. This is a matter of instruction. The mental 



FACULTIES AND ACQUISITIONS 133 

faculties are what are commonly called attention, memory, 
judgment, reasoning, abstraction, etc. This is intelligence. 

The practical results obtained by a defective evidently depend 
upon his intellectual faculties, and also upon his character, as 
well as upon the environment in which he is placed; and, like- 
wise, the dependence upon the intellectual level is so close that 
we believe it to be possible, when we observe a subject of a cer- 
tain level, to foresee for all time, whether he will be incapable 
of learning to read. There is, therefore, an important relation 
between the intellectual faculties of an individual and the prac- 
tical results which he may obtain from them. It is the same 
relation which exists between a science and its applications. 
But, if one wishes to compare any individual with the normal 
type, from the point of view of his intelligence and to discover 
thus how far inferior to the normal he is, one perceives that the 
comparison is put in very different terms, according as one's point 
of view is the practical result or the intellectual faculties. 

Taking account only of the practical acquisitions, that is of 
instruction, we find an absolutely clear difference between the 
two subjects. The normal child of seven years can read hesi- 
tatingly; an imbecile even of twenty years cannot read, and 
can never learn to read. This is an excellent criterion for dis- 
tinguishing one from the other. Reading is a barrier which 
will separate them for all eternity; it is moreover a limit which 
suffers no distinction of more or less, it is absolute. One can 
come to an understanding on this point because it is a question 
of fact, and our understanding will be clearer if we take the pains 
to define what we mean by reading; if we distinguish the pro- 
nouncing of syllables from hesitating reading, and this from 
fluent reading. We could cite also as an example of a practical 
result, the use of speech. We have said that speech does not 
result from a faculty, and that we do not possess a faculty of 
speech, as we do the faculty of paying attention, or of memory.^ 

Speech is an application, a practical result of our faculties com- 
parable, for example, to the art of playing chess; and indeed if 
we take the word art in its technical sense, we might say with 
perfect truth that speech is an art. Let us repeat that speech 
belongs to instruction. Besides, speech serves as an excellent 

^ See Language and Thought, Part II, this volume. 



134 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

criterion for distinguishing a whole group of defectives; idiots 
are mute, whereas imbeciles speak. 

Let us turn now to the intellectual faculties and see if they 
can furnish us with an analogous, distinctive criterion. In other 
words is it possible to cite known mental faculties which belong 
to normals and are not to be found among defectives? Formerly 
this was believed, and certain authors believe it still; but this 
is because they have submitted their subjects to incomplete 
observations. Let us make an enumeration. Is the defective 
radically incapable of attention? Evidently not. We have 
proved, even with idiots, that they give undeniable evidences 
of attention. Recall the idiot Vouzin, who looks at us a little 
especially when we call him loudly, and who for a moment even 
showed spontaneous attention, when he took the music box 
from our hands. Is it memory that is lacking? Not that either. 
We have noted many instances of prolonged memory among them. 
Denise, the poor girl, remembered for several days the object 
that we had called "Papa."^ 

Are they strangers to the notion of number? This has been 
believed, because they employ at random the names of numbers 
which they do not understand; but some precise tests have shown 
us that they have a distinct consciousness of plurality even when 
they cannot name it. Is it then critical sense, judgment that 
they lack? Certainly judgment often fails them; or rather they 
can be placed in certain conditions where it would require a 
particular degree of judgment for them to be equal to the situa- 
tion, and they cannot attain it. But in other cases they cer- 
tainly show some judgment, for instance when Albert refuses 
to be the dupe of a suggestion. We may thus pass in review all 
our faculties, and determine that not one is entirely lacking in 
them. They always have them in some degree. The arsenal 
of their intellect is equipped with all the weapons. 

Another means of arriving at the same conclusion consists 
in repeating an experiment that had been attempted by them 
but in which they had failed; let that experiment be simplified 
by replacing it with another of the same nature but easier, and 
the defective immediately takes his revenge. A certain move- 
ment cannot be accomplished in ten seconds; he does it in twenty 

^ See Language and Thought, Part II, this volume. 



THE DIEECTION OF THOUGHT 135 

seconds. He cannot repeat four figures; but he can repeat two. 
He does not understand a certain sentence; but he comprehends 
another that is shorter and less compHcated. He fails in a ''game 
of patience" formed of ten pieces; he succeeds if the number of 
pieces is only three. Sometimes it is not easy to simplify a 
test; but every time that it is reduced sufficiently, one can be 
certain that the defective will be able to succeed. 

This truth, verified repeatedly, frees us from the necessity 
of undertaking an investigation whose result can be foreseen, 
or of putting any questions which seem on reflection to be use- 
less or without sense. Thus there is no need of asking whether 
or not an imbecile has any esthetic sense. He will always have 
at least a trace. Show him two figures, one pretty, the other 
ugly, and he will be able to make a distinction between them 
if you carry the degree of deformity far enough. 

All this leads to the conclusion that the difference between 
the defective and the normal is not produced by the absence of 
a particular faculty, and alienists who in their definitions have 
seemed to insinuate the contrary, have deceived themselves. 
But these are all very negative conclusions; and now, after having 
said what is not, it is time to say what is. 

III. The Direction of Thought 

In order to group all the facts collected we are going to present 
an hypothesis; this hypothesis cannot explain everything nor 
cover everything; we shall limit ourselves to considering a single 
side of the question, the intellectual side, leaving for another 
time the study of the instincts and the emotions. In a word, 
we are going to present a scheme of thought and show how this 
scheme can explain the differences which we have encountered in 
the intelligence and bearing of a defective, and also to explain 
exactly in what the evolution of the intelligence consists. Our 
scheme should represent not only the mechanism of the thought, 
but its evolution. Here we arrive at the culminating point of 
our study, at the important general idea, which gives the evalua- 
tion and the summary of all the little observations in detail. 

Whenever one has tried to define thought (we take the word 
here in its broadest sense), there has been a general tendency 
to give too great importance to mental images, thought being 



136 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

thereby reduced to an act of contemplation, the contemplation 
of an image. But many observations, experiments, and reason- 
ings have shown us that thought is not a passive state, but rather 
a system of actions. James has repeatedly insisted, as we our- 
selves have done, upon the possible existence of conscious thought 
which is produced without the aid of images;^ and on the other 
hand it has been shown that to think does not consist solely 
and passively in taking cognizance, but in trying, in feeling 
one's way, in choosing. All these preliminary views can take 
a more exact form, thanks to the following scheme. 

Thought, as we believe, is composed of three distinct elements; 
a direction, an adaptation, and a criticism. These three elements 
characterize a complete thought, but they may be lacking in 
an incomplete thought. In order to make our description better, 
let us suppose a thought to be as rich as possible, very much 
richer than it is in reality; we shall do as an author does who, 
wishing to describe a regiment, describes without exception 
all the possible auxiliary exercises, even those which never coexist 
in the same regiment. 

First the direction. To accomplish with consciousness and 
surety an act of thought, we must first know ''what it is about." 
We take, for instance, a problem in addition; we know that we 
must add, we have constantly this idea of addition in our minds, 
and it is necessary, because this idea produces an effect upon 
every figure with which we operate; we encounter for instance, 
a figure 3 and a figure 7, written one over the other; one might 
multiply them, subtract them or add them. If we add them 
it is because of the directing idea that we must make an addition. 
In every experiment with an individual, one commences by giv- 
ing him some instruction; this instruction, once it is understood, 
serves as the starting point of the directing idea. It is the direct- 
ing idea under the most conscious form in which it can be clothed, 
the verbal form. 

Thus we ask one of our defectives, Griffon, to name for us 
all the red objects that he knows. He complies, and for two 
minutes busies himself in citing seventeen red objects. There 
are here two phenomena: the evocation of the names of red ob- 
jects, and on the other hand, the order which we have given him, 

' See Experimental Study of the Intelligence, p. 81. 



THE DIRECTION OF THOUGHT 137 

which he remembers, and to which he conforms. It is this order 
which serves as a directing state of consciousness. These states 
of consciousness function continually in us normals. They 
are veritable orders which we give ourselves. But they are not 
always conscious orders. In the beginning, when we com- 
mence an art not yet learned, we have the full consciousness of 
the directions we are to follow; the beginner in painting distinctly 
remembers 9,nd can even formulate the numerous rules which 
he learned from his professor, and which are necessary for him 
to remember in order to cover every centimeter of his canvas 
with color. But little by little, the influence of the directing 
state becomes weaker on the movement of the thought and of 
the hand. One no longer needs to make an express appeal 
to the verbal formula of the instructions; it falls into the vague 
state of an intellectual feeling, or even completely disappears. 
Some authors have recently made a curious experiment which 
demonstrates what we have just said; this is accomplished by 
means of controlled association of ideas. A word is given to the 
subject, and he must find a second, which stands in an exact 
relation to the first, for instance of subordination or of superordi- 
nation. At first the subject is obliged to recall the order; he re- 
peats it to himself, he is even obliged to have it so vividly in 
his consciousness that he sometimes visualizes it in a way to 
be his guide; then little by little he thinks of it less; in the end 
he does not think of it at all; and yet only such words as conform 
to the instruction present themselves. The directing state, 
from being conscious has become unconscious: but it is like the 
manager who from behind the scenes watches and directs the 
actors on the stage. 

These few facts borrowed from the history of our normal 
life, permit us to know in what the direction consists. We also 
know by personal experience that cases present themselves 
where the directing idea fails us. We do an errand, we go into 
another room to look for an object, then, surprised we stop, 
not knowing what we came to look for. Wie accuse our memory 
or perhaps our attention; in reality it is the direction which has 
suddenly failed us. In dreams, in reveries, we see images suc- 
ceeding one another, but there is no plan, we do not know where 
we are tending, there is no purpose, we drift without direction. 

Among our defectives, we often encounter an absence or weak- 
ness of direction which manifests itself under two different forms; 



138 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

either the direction, once commenced, does not continue, or it 
has not even been commenced because it has not been understood. 

The direction often grows very weak among imbeciles. We 
see it when we talk with them. In conversation, intelligent per- 
sons are attentive to what we say, they look at and listen to us; 
what would distract them is repulsed, annihilated, remains in- 
effective. In a conversation of this kind there is no order given 
to listen, it is a sentiment of curiosity or of deference which pro- 
duces the direction. We have seen how this direction may be lack- 
ing under certain circumstances with imbeciles and idiots ; we have 
described all these failures in the chapter on attention. Some- 
times the direction fails entirely of being established. Vouzin 
instead of listening to us looks all about him; nothing is coordi- 
nated in his case; these psychological elements remain scattered. 
With others, like Denise, the direction can form itself, but it 
is very precarious; the current is established, but it is easily di- 
verted; with others the distractions are transitory, and the 
current may of itself again take up the first direction. We 
are studying here the formation of a tendency altogether ele- 
mentary, the tendency to coordination and systematization ; it 
is necessary not only for carrying out an exact psychological 
experiment, but also, which is much more important, for the 
adaptation of a human being to his environment. 

We have said there are other circumstances where the direc- 
tion fails through lack of comprehension; speaking in common 
terms, our imbecile receives an order but does not execute it 
because he has not understood. This is what happens with a 
good many of our tests. We tell an imbecile, for instance, to 
compare two boxes and to indicate the heavier, and he does not 
succeed. If he does not succeed it is not because it is impossible 
for him to perceive the difference of the two weights. As we 
have often proved he can very well perceive this difference; 
but he is embarrassed by the necessity of making a comparison; 
he does not understand the meaning of the experiment; he does 
not see that he must take a box, weigh it in his hand, remember 
its weight, then weigh another, compare it with the first, decide 
which of the two is the heavier, and point it out. In regard 
to this, children show the same embarrassment as imbeciles, 
they do not understand the directing idea. Here is another 
example. One may understand, may even begin an action, 



THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 139 

then suddenly cease to understand. We have had particular 
occasion to observe this among general paralytics. An operation 
is given them to perform, for instance a subtraction; in the mid- 
dle of it they no longer remember where they are, and begin to 
add instead of continuing their subtraction. Or again, they 
have commenced the study of a problem. They have seen that 
27 must be multiplied by 36; they do the first part of the multi- 
plication correctly, then they stop, they are lost. It is as though 
in their heads they had been playing chess and some one came 
along and hit the chess-board, jumbling the men together. They 
are obliged to abandon the problem. 

Thus one of the first characteristics which distinguishes a 
superior from an inferior intelligence, is the power of directing 
the thought; and this power of direction manifests itself in two 
ways: by its complexity and by its persistence. Let us further 
remark how the position which we have taken differs from a 
theory wide-spead in psychology, which gives all the efficacy 
to the idea, to the sensation, to the movement, to isolated phe- 
nomena, while we believe that the first fact, the most important 
of the psychic life, is a coordination which gives to the current 
of ideas a definite direction. According to the adherents of 
the first theory, which we may call the theory of psychic atomism, 
the attention is only of the one idea, it is a state which results 
from the isolation of one idea reigning alone in an empty con- 
sciousness; a singular theory which would hardly apply to an 
idiot, because, since it is very probable that the idiot has fewer 
ideas than the normal, the idiot must approach nearer to that 
desideratum of an empty consciousness and consequently must 
be more attentive than the normal. Observation shows us that 
the contrary is true, and we can very well understand it; the 
idiot does not coordinate, and without coordination there is 
no attention. 

IV. The Adaptation of Thought 

Continuing the exposition of our scheme, we shall speak of 
adaptation. There is not only a direction in the movement of 
thought, there is also a progress; this progress manifests itself 
in the nature of the successive states through which one passes; 
they are not equivalent, the first is not of the same value as the 



140 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

last. One arrives at the last state only because he has already 
passed the first state. This progress, seen as a whole and as 
it were from without, has often received the name of choice; 
thought, in order to evolve, makes a selection; it consists in con- 
stantly choosing between many states, many ideas, many means, 
which present themselves before it like routes which diverge 
from a crossroad. The figure seems to us suSiciently accurate. 
To think is constantly to choose in view of the end to be pursued ; 
the formula is so true that it might be given a thousand different 
applications. But it has one fault, it is too brief; it states a 
result, the choice, that is to say, not a selection made with volun- 
tary discernment, but the mere fact that the thought, placed 
before a host of possibilities, realizes but one. This is too brief, 
because we do not say in what the progress consists nor by what 
mechanism it manifests itself. 

The explanation becomes at once better if we observe that the 
quality of the states of consciousness as they evolve is different 
and varies according to law. In fact the first states through 
which one passes are indefinite, the last states are definite; the 
first are undetermined, the last are more determined. Thought, 
one may say, tends to a determination ; it even consists in a deter- 
mination; it starts from chaos where everything is indefinite, 
to end in a realization which by its definite contours resembles 
the reality. This explanation is certainly better than that of 
choice. 

It has sometimes been believed that this stage of beginning 
resembles a general idea, and that the progress of thought would 
be from the general to the particular. The truth is, that in all 
the observations where one has been able to see closely the true 
progress of thought, in reading for instance, or in the conception 
of a sentence, the idea at the beginning lacks individualization, 
and becomes individual only by further work. Thus for instance, 
say a word to a person, and try to grasp what that word suggests 
to him. There is in this case, a very vague first stage, then comes 
one more precise, with a better determined thought. At the 
beginning the idea is embryonic. To call it general seems to us 
to start from an altogether false conception. The general idea 
is an exact idea and not a vague one; it is an idea that includes 
numerous possibilities of individual application, and consequently 
it seems to us to be rather a multiplication of exactness, and a 



THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 141 

sum of individualizations rather than any indetermination what- 
ever.* 

Let us go farther; thought is not only an exact determination. 
Its object is not a disinterested existence, and without bearing 
upon the necessities of life. Like nutrition and respiration, it 
is a vital function; it exists only because it is of use. It serves 
to adapt us better to the physical environment of nature, and 
to the moral environment of our fellows. Every idea, as has 
often been said, leads to action or contains a potential act. But 
the idea would be of no use if its determination were not exact; 
it must be exact in order that the means may adapt itself to 
the end, in order that the thought may adapt itself to the goal 
to be pursued. Every thought is like a key which must fit exactly 
in the hole of some lock. 

These adaptations presuppose many realized conditions; first 
that the end to which one adapts oneself be posited, then that 
it be chosen, finally that it be attained. 

Posited; we wish to say that it must be definitely stated so 
that one knows where one is going. Many cases are possible, 
because nothing is more varied in shade than the psychic life. 
Sometimes the end is as definite as a formula in algebra, and 
in fact, to solve a problem in algebra is to make an effort toward 
an end which is expressed by the very terms of the problem; 
the end is put in an equation. Sometimes the end remains 
vague; it is a general idea, an ideal of beauty, of goodness, of 
truth, of justice, that each one interprets in his own way and which 
sometimes is felt rather than expressed. As often happens, 
feeling, that sort of confused thought, takes the place of the 
clear idea. 

The choice of the end is not less important nor less difficult. 
In every day life many different ends present themselves to us, 
and we are obliged to make a choice. The thought is higher 
in proportion as the choice is better. We have said in relation 
to attention — and it might be remarked in relation to will, reason, 
and even to feeling — there exists a hierarchy among possible 
acts of adaptation; there are insignificant acts, and others that 
are important; there are those whose advantage is small and 
immediate, others whose advantage is very great but remote. 

^ See in Experimental Study of the Intelligence, p. 135, a passage where 
this point is studied. 



142 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

To know how to choose is to subordinate the lower nature, to 
dominate the instincts, to elevate life. The mentality of the 
child, of the imbecile (and unfortunately also of many adults 
who for this reason can never improve themselves), consists in 
preferring the immediate pleasure of the moment, to the more 
lasting pleasure of the morrow, and consequently in developing 
an activity which does not calculate, does not reflect, and above 
all does not economize, and which therefore cannot accumulate 
capital. 

But we shall not linger over these questions of choice of ends 
for they do not come within the domain of the present study. 
The choice of ends depends less upon the intelligence than upon 
the emotional, the affective, the instinctive life. To mak;e a 
broad distinction, one might say, the end is chosen by our ten- 
dencies; but the means for attaining this end are combined by 
our intelligence; our study must confine itself to the adjustment 
of means to an end, which is the proper work of the intelligence, 
and which constitutes adaptation. 

When it is a question of a new action, the adaptation does not 
take place immediately at the first attempt but by gropings, 
that is to say by successive trials; one is like a locksmith called 
to open a locked door; he searches in his bunch of keys and tries 
many but he does not try them all indiscriminately, for he sees 
at a glance those that will not fit; his attempts are not blind, 
they are directed, selected, according to a complex mechanism, 
which we have not the time to describe here. 

All that is abstract in our description, disappears immediately 
when we recall in detail the observations which we made upon 
imbeciles. This appeal to experience will not only help to render 
our scheme more clear, but will enable us to understand why the 
defective remains stationary and does not continue his normal 
development. 

Thus, first of all, we shall explain how it is that for certain 
operations an imbecile is equal to a normal person. We have 
seen that defectives perceive slight differences of sensations for 
weights or lengths almost as exactly as we do. This is because 
there is no necessity for reflection, and the thought does not 
need to evolve; it suffices to have consciousness of an elementary 
sensation of difference — the act of thought is, in itself, elementary, 
and if the state of consciousness has an extreme definiteness, it 



THE ADAPTATION Or THOUGHT 143 

owes that definiteness solely to the sensation sensed, not to the 
psychological operation of sensing. Moreover, we have already 
noted that a normal subject who should continue to examine and 
reflect would end by losing -the fine sensation of a slight differ- 
ence. This is indeed a proof that all development of thought, 
without going out to meet the result sought after, can be assured 
only by producing a good state of attention. 

Another case. We have shown, that in forming associations 
with a word an imbecile succeeds as well as a normal. We ask 
him to say any word, associated with the word pronounced to 
him. This is an arbitrary procedure, a thought scarcely deter- 
mined and really the operation required is suited to the mentality 
of a defective, and we can understand that he willingly submits. 
On the contrary the normal is uncomfortable, asks if he is to 
say just anything, and is surprised at the small significance of 
such an experiment; his discomfort is easily understood; habi- 
tuated to adapting himself to an end in determining his thought, 
he finds himself lost when he has no means of knowing to what 
he must adapt himself, especially so when we allow him to sup- 
pose there is no end to which he must adapt himself. Put aside 
this particular mental state, and retain only the words said in 
association, and we see that those of defectives are very nearly 
of the same nature as those of normals and, moreover, paradoxical 
as it seems to anyone who attaches an absolute value to the quick- 
ness of thought, the defectives are more rapid, simply because 
they do not choose, do not direct their thought, but give the first 
word that comes to mind. 

This is permissible in an experiment upon the association of 
ideas; but they comport themselves in the same way in other 
cases, where they should adapt themselves to a definite end. 
Let us cite some examples. In order to make an inventory 
of their knowledge we show them a piece of money or a playing 
card, and ask them what it is. We are surprised at the difficulty 
we meet with in determining exactly what they know, because a 
one-franc piece will be called first 2 francs, then in another minute 
1 or 3 francs or 2 sous by the same subject; in the same way, 
when they are presented with a card, a nine of spades, they say 
spades, or clubs, or diamonds; and if one insists upon being told 
the number of points, they will say that it is 8 of spades, then 
say that it is 7, or 10, or 9, or 4. In the face of these errors and 



144 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

contradictions, the inexperienced experimenter has a tendency 
to become impatient; he is incHned to reprove the imbecile, 
to chide him for his lack of attention, for it seems truly, that if 
he took a little pains he could reply correctly. This would be 
a grave error of method. The important thing is not to obtain 
from the imbecile a correct reply; this would be the act of the 
pedagogue and is here altogether out of place; the important 
thing is to determine with precision that peculiar mental state, 
thanks to which our defective is contented with the first reply 
which comes to mind. 

It is not quite the first response that occurs to him, it is rather 
a lack of elaboration. The imbecile, of whom one asks the name 
of pieces of money spread before him on the table, does not re- 
ply with any random word; he does not say "It is a dog." He 
gives the name of a piece of money. In the same way, if we show 
him a square of red paper he does not name a piece of furniture, 
he names a color; he says — incorrectly — that it is white or blue. 
In other words he gives the genus for the species. It is there- 
fore a first determination, very insufficient, but it satisfies him. 
He goes no farther; he does not go far enough to name the right 
color. 

In the same way when he is shown a picture containing a 

great number of objects, and we say to him: Where is the 

suspending the voice at the moment of naming the object, it 
sometimes happens that the imbecile, too eager to satisfy us, 
puts his finger upon any object whatever. This is a form of 
suggestibility caused in part, as we have shown before, by an 
excess of deference and which results also from a facility for 
saying no matter what without reflection. Nearly all the cases 
of suggestibility which we have described among imbeciles reveal 
just this particular mental state. 

To fix the ideas, we have designated this state by an arbitrary 
and truly clinical name: n'importequisme (no-matter-whatism) . 
A thorough analysis would show that this n'importequisme is 
very complex; we suppose that it has for its essential condition, 
an absence of critical sense; the imbecile does not realize the 
insufficiency of his reply, and it is necessary that he should not 
realize it, otherwise he would not be satisfied with such a gross 
approximation. We shall return to this point in a moment, 
when we study that special element of thought — control. But 



THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 145 

in our opinion the n'importequism has need of two other con- 
ditions, a thought that does not evolve, and a thought that 
does not pullulate. 

According to circumstances, one of these defects in the thought 
of the imbecile will manifest itself more than the other. The 
insufficiency of its puUulation shows especially in the "game of 
patience," which consists in joining the pieces of the cards in 
such a fashion as to reconstruct a whole. With this problem, 
a normal person who really wishes to take the pains to succeed, 
shows a remarkable abundance of ideas. One combination fail- 
ing he tries a second, then a third and so on, either in maintaining 
a part of the previous combination which seems to him good, 
or in imagining an entirely new construction; there is a continual 
struggle- between his memory and his imagination, and from 
this struggle, fertile combinations are born. His intelligence, 
encountering an obstacle, is like the water in a stream which, 
arrested by a stone, turns back and struggles against the obstacle. 
With the imbecile, the slowness of the production of ideas is 
very striking especially when one has watched the work of a 
normal. It is no longer living water that flows, but a streamlet 
of wax that congeals. Not only does the imbecile content him- 
self with something nearly true, owing to the absence of critical 
sense, but moreover the number of attempts which he makes 
is extremely small, two or three for example, where a normal 
would make ten. Herein lies the explanation of the poverty 
of ideas which makes any conversation with an imbecile so in- 
sipid. Let us recall our friend Albert, who when warmly greeted 
after a week's absence, "Well, well my dear boy! It's been a 
long while since we've met! What have you done all this time? 
Tell us all about it," replies simply — "I have swept." 

Under other circumstances one sees in the imbecile less the 
lack of puUulation than the lack of differentiation of the thought. 
We might cite very many examples to support this; we shall give 
only two sorts, which we have observed in the perception of 
pictures and in the definition of terms. 

It will be recalled that many imbeciles can say only a single 
thing of the picture shown them, "There is a man, there is a 
woman." We have made the summary remark that it was 
through lack of penetration. The expression was superficial, 
the analysis was summary; seen more closely the phenomenon 



146 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

reveals to us especially an arrest of intellectual development 
through lack of differentiation. In what does the interpretation 
of a picture really consist? It consists in completing the huage 
by the appropriate evocation of an idea which adjusts itself 
exactly to the picture, so that this interpretation is JGitting to 
this picture and fitting to it only. The operation consists in 
adjusting oneself to an end, and this end is furnished by the pic- 
ture. We see in the replies of our imbeciles, that the adjustment 
is far from being definite, and that their commentary on the 
picture has nothing characteristic or individual. They say to 
us, for example, of a picture which represents a combat of horses, 
"There .... there are men," and they repeat apropos 
of another picture representing men drinking at a table, "There 

. . . . there are men." Identical replies for very dif- 
ferent pictures. In other words their thought, instead of dif- 
ferentiating itself in a particular manner to adjust itself to each 
picture, remains vague, one might even say general, taking the 
qualification "general" in the sense of embryonic; in a word 
it does not evolve. It would fit any of the pictures shown them, 
and consequently it properly fits none. It is this absence of 
evolution which we have remarked about them, when they said, 
in naming 1 franc, that it was 1 sou or 10 francs; only with this 
difference; when our imbeciles name pieces of money or colors 
or playing cards they make an effort at precision; they do not 
say, "It is money, it is a color, it is a card," but rather, "It 
is 1 franc, it is blue, it is spades," and by the very fact that they 
are precise they fail. On the contrary their remarks upon pic- 
tures remain true because they are vague and insufficient. 

The same remark holds with regard to the explanation which 
they furnish us or with the definitions which one can draw from 
them. To the question "what is a horse," "a table," "a chair," 
etc? they usually reply like a child of seven years, in terms of 
use. "A table is to eat; a horse is to eat; bread is to eat; a spoon 
is to eat." There is in this case, exactly as for the comments 
upon the picture, an insufficiency of determination, because all 
these formulas of use apply to all this group of objects only 
because they do not exactly adapt themselves to any one; such 
a definition is passable only because it is vague. It is the same 
phenomenon, which is produced through lack of differentiation 
in the thought. On occasion one can also distinguish in the 



THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 147 

replies another interesting character, the utihtarian predilec- 
tion, but this belongs to the domain of the feelings, instincts, 
and needs, and for the moment we are speaking only of the 
mechanism of thought. 

To sum up : the effort of adaptation of which the imbecile men- 
tality is capable is arrested in two different ways; first, through 
lack of successive attempts, which we have called lack of pullula- 
tion of the thought, which is equivalent to a weakness of intellec- 
tual activity; second, through lack of the work of differentiation 
which is necessary in order that the exact adaptation of the 
thought to the end be assured. Let us recall the comparison 
of the key. The imbecile can try only one or two keys to open 
the lock, and the keys are badly adjusted; the key grinds, and 
the lock often does not open. 

A word in regard to this. One will think, perhaps, that the 
lack of intellectual activity and the lack of differentiation of the 
thought go together, and are the same fact seen under two differ- 
ent aspects. It will be supposed that every active thought must 
evolve, adapt itself, differentiate itself, and that consequently 
it is the weakness of the activity, which prevents the mental 
evolution of the imbecile. In our mind this is an error of inter- 
pretation. We do not believe that the causes of an intellectual 
arrest can be reduced to a unity. These causes are many and 
when one of them is suppressed the arrest may still continue 
to be produced. We have made one observation which seems 
instructive in this regard. It has impressed us very much. It 
is the case of an imbecile named Cabussel, of whom we have al- 
ready spoken. Cabussel does not resemble his fellow imbeciles 
in all respects; he represents a type that is not common. Ordi- 
narily an imbecile is slow and has but few ideas. It is difficult 
to talk with him, his replies are short, and he scarcely ever makes 
abundant remarks spontaneously. This is a particular mark 
of his weak intellectual activity; if he is made to find and to pro- 
nounce the greatest number of words possible in a give time, 
he finds very few; certain of our imbeciles cannot find 20 words 
in three minutes. 

Cabussel, as we have seen, has a great deal of intellectual 
activity; his activity is shown by the vivacity and abundance of 
his conversation, which is such that we feel the need of a stenog- 
rapher to take it down entirely; and yet his attention is not 



148 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

better, nor his intellectual level higher than those imbeciles who, 
like Albert, have very much less activity. In particular, let us 
recall that Cabussel, notwithstanding all his vivacity of speech 
describes, in exactly the same terms as Albert, the pictures which 
are shown him. He limits himself to saying, "There, that is a 
man; there, that is a woman." This is certainly a proof that 
thought can pullulate without evolving and that the level of 
the intelligence is distinct from the activity of the intelligence. 

V. The Correction 

The last piece of mental mechanism which we shall attempt 
to describe is the apparatus of control. This has been desig- 
nated under different names; critical sense is the most commonly 
known; judgment is the technical expression of psychologists; 
auto-censure is a happy word, recently proposed by certain alienists 
to name this faculty of control when it exercises itself upon it- 
self. Perhaps this last point of view is the most interesting. 
In effect it is a question here, before everything else, of a faculty 
of control, which has for its object its own operations. When 
we judge, we take one after the other, two attitudes; one is turned 
towards the exterior world, which we perceive and evaluate; 
the other, the fact of reflection, is turned back upon ourselves, 
and it is ourselves that we evaluate. 

It is evident that we all know this sort of auto-criticism and 
that all of us have exercised it upon ourselves. It is familiarly 
expressed in the dialogue of a naive person talking with him- 
self, when he counsels himself before acting, and scolds himself 
afterwards. It translates itself nobly in the monologues of the 
classic theater, where the personage finds himself divided be- 
tween the demands of duty and the impulse of his instinct. In 
ordinary life, we pass continually from the role of actor to that 
of judge; we are never sufficiently seized with the fire of action 
or of feeling to lose the faculty of judging ourselves, or rather 
the two attitudes are not successive but they mingle in a com- 
posite whole; one is moved and at the same time is a conscious 
witness of one's emotion; and even the cold and sensible reflec- 
tions made upon oneself do not detract from the sincerity of 
the feelings experienced. 

The anecdotal side of this question presented itself to psycholo- 
gists when they sought to learn what was true in the Paradoxes 



THE CORRECTION 149 

of Diderot. Diderot claimed that an actor can play properly- 
only when he feels nothing of what he expresses; because how 
could he be moved and at the same time regulate his steps upon 
the stage, and watch the effect of his play upon the audience? 
The reply has been made to this that although the emotional 
capacity of actors varies according to the temperament of each 
one of them, there is nothing paradoxical in admitting that they 
are at the same time moved and master of themselves; the essen- 
tial of artistic emotion is that it be under the direction of the 
will and the surveillance of taste.^ 

In the preceding description of the scheme of thought, we 
have constantly taken for granted that the control is at work. 
Let us recall that thought consists in an adaptation. It is neces- 
sary that the means not only be found, but be judged capable 
of attaining this end. Before pulling the trigger the marks- 
man sees that his weapon is properly aimed. In the same way 
the control intervenes to make sure that the means are efficacious; 
those that are judged good are adopted; the others are rejected. 
Without this attentive selection no adaptation can succeed. 

What is most curious is that the effect of the control makes 
itself felt, while for the most part the control itself is unconscious. 
When we undertake a commercial affair we know what is possible 
for us to attempt, what is possible to demand, and this feeling 
is sufficient to stifle a host of unreasonable ideas, even before 
they appear. We do not have to disperse them and sort out the 
good grain, for usually the greater part of the bad grain does not 
present itself. There is here a silent work of systematization 
which is extremely useful. 

Let us pass on to our defectives. At every step of our obser- 
vations we have discovered their lack of this power of control. 
A certain one, in our presence, yawns, or scratches himself in 
the most comical manner; this is a lack of control through lack 
of good manners. Another told to copy an "a" scribbles a form- 
less mass at which he smiles in a satisfied manner; this is lack 
of control through lack of attention, because these same imbe- 
ciles, if one insists, can be made to see that their scribbling does 
not resemble the model. But it is especially when we ask their 
opinion upon some question which they do not know, that we 

^ See A. Binet, Le Paradoxe de Diderot, Annee Psychologique, vol. 
iii, p. 279. 



150 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

discover their lack of control. This state of n'importequism 
already pointed out is composed in the first place of a lack of 
evolution and of differentiation in the thought, and in the next 
place by an absence of criticism. We have already remarked 
that to reply, "It is exactly eleven o'clock," when one cannot 
tell time, to give the first color that comes into one's head when 
asked to name a particular color, must mean that the sense of 
demonstration is lacking, the sense of the absurd, the fear of 
being wrong, in a word all of those states which tend to correct 
and reduce and which constitute control. 

But it is necessary to remark, that in order to bring out this 
n'importequism clearly, it is necessary to exercise force upon 
the intelligence of imbeciles. Left to themselves, they do not 
say and they do not perform all the absurdities that we draw 
from them; if they have committed very many blunders in their 
conversations with us we are somewhat responsible, because 
we obliged them to reply to questions beyond their reach. In 
short if they are lacking in judgment they are equally lacking 
in direction, in adaptation and the rest; if their functionings 
are in a rudimentary state, there is at least some harmony in 
all these rudiments. It would therefore be wrong to think of 
comparing them with those degenerates, among whom impulsive 
acts betray a lack of harmony, a loss of equilibrium. These 
are mental conditions of a very different nature. 

VI. Origin of the Scheme of Thought 

The scheme of thought which we have just set forth has been 
made definite by our study of defectives and by our need to 
explain wherein their deficiency consists; but its origin dates 
farther back. One of us had already this idea in mind when 
he wrote some ten years ago, his "Experimental Study of the 
Intelligence,"^ which we have often been obliged to cite; the 
observations contained in that book have stimulated experimen- 
tation in Germany upon the psychology of thought, which is 
at the present moment being carried on with much activity, 
and which passes by the general name of the Method of WurtzburgJ 

* Schleicher Brothers, Paris, 1900. 

^ This name is used because the psychologists of the University of 
Wurtzburg have been the second to employ this method. This is a curious 
usage with which we are unacquainted. Or rather, it is the second 



ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 151 

It will also be noted that the expressions of direction of thought, 
of correction, and other equivalents are currently employed to- 
day by many authors, and our scheme itself, although it is per- 
haps more definite and more complete than anything which has 
been proposed, will seem to manj'- to lack originality. 

It is important to point out in conclusion exactly in what 
respects our scheme seems to us to be in advance of the former 
theories of the mechanism of thought, and what characteristic 
points it presents. 

In the first place one might believe a double use was made of 
the primordial faculties of mind, which have been described from 
all eternity under the familiar names of memory, attention, 
imagination, judgment. We have sometimes employed these 
expressions in our descriptions, but we have not abused them, 
and it would have been easy for us not to have used them at 
all. Would it have been possible to reduce the scheme of thought 
to a play of these faculties? At first thought this reduction 
merits a trial, because it seems very seductive. 

One might remark that all that we have described under the 
term direction is only attention; our auto-correction is only 
judgment; and as to the act of adaptation, which is the center 
of the system, one could just as well reduce it to memory, which 
conserves the states of consciousness, and to the imagination, 
which raises them up at the proper moment. 

But on reflection it seems to us that to reduce the scheme of 
thought to these known faculties would be to take from the 
scheme all its originality. On the one hand the essential point 
of the new theory is considering thought as an action, the ac- 
tion consisting in adapting itself; it is around this conception 
that everything gravitates; furthermore, the principle of adapta- 
tion is not contained in any one of our intellectual faculties; 
there is in it an idea which surpasses them. On the other hand, 
if the principal parts of the system, direction, correction, adjust- 
ment, can be explained by a play of the attention, memory, imagina- 
tion, judgment, it must be noted that any one of those faculties 
taken alone would be ineffectual for the work that one would 

example of which we have any record. The first is the following: the 
study of errors in testimony which we inaugurated is currently designated 
today by the name of the author who took it up after us, and bears the 
name of the method of Stern. 



152 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

wish to assign to it. Take for instance auto-correction. Is 
that judgment? Yes, without doubt; one must judge in order 
to correct oneself, but correction supposes more than an intel- 
lectual appreciation. It supposes in addition, an arrest, a sus- 
pension of a defective motor tendency; to judgment one must 
add will. Sometimes correction is made in full consciousness 
after an effort of reflection; in this case attention must be added 
to judgment and will. Nor is this all. The arrest may be made 
without making an intellectual judgment, by the conflict of 
an emotional state which serves as antagonist; one must then 
add to the list of acting faculties, a new faculty, that of emotivity. 
The list is already long, and we have taken into account neither 
memory, which is necessary in order for us to possess the motives 
for rendering a judgment, nor imagination which serves to pre- 
sent them forcibly to the mind. 

Let us take another example, the direction. Is that atten- 
tion? Without doubt, and we do not deny it; but it will be easy 
in analyzing this second case, to show all that this faculty implies; 
an observation taken from life will prove it to us. An imbecile 
Denise who is listening to us suddenly changes her direction; 
while we talk she is attracted by a bird flying in the garden, 
and she begins watching the bird and forgets us. We say that 
the first direction has been abandoned, and that is sufficient 
for our scheme. But what is the mechanism of this derailment? 
Is it lack of attention? Is it lack of memory? It is extremely 
difficult to know, because direction supposes, among other things, 
memory and attention, and the difference between derailment 
through lack of attention, and derailment through lack of memory 
is extremely subtle. We would say lack of memory when the 
directing idea has completely disappeared; lack of attention 
when the idea, without completely disappearing, has lost its 
interest and is disregarded. All these distinctions are of but little 
importance. Here then is a case which shows admirably not 
only that the greater part of our primordial faculties is involved 
in each part of the scheme of thought, but moreover that it may 
be a very delicate matter to establish the r61e of each one of 
these faculties. 

In short then, we may conclude that the theory of the intellec- 
tual faculties and the theory of the scheme of thought belong 
to two different planes. 



ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 153 

To make this distinction more clear, we borrow from biology 
the following comparison; the primordial biological element is 
the cell; in grouping themselves, cells form the tissues; tissues 
in their turn form the organs. In the same way one might 
say that the intellectual functions of memory, attention, judg- 
ment, etc., correspond to the cells; combining themselves, they 
form something analogous to a tissue. What corresponds to 
the organ is our scheme of thought, because, like the organ, 
this scheme has a function. 

It is perhaps in this last word, function, that the chief originality 
of our new scheme of thought resides; and if this word is under- 
stood in its fullest sense, one sees new perspectives opening out. 
One will understand that there is a certain amount of the obso- 
lete in contemporaneous psychology, and that one must encourage 
a different psychology, the one which is already called in America 
functional psychology. 

In our opinion it will henceforth seem superannuated to make 
psychology a science of introspection, or to express it better, 
of contemplation, which has for its object of study the states 
of consciousness, and which has no other end but to describe all 
the qualities of these states. In fact, up to this point, we have 
seen in the faculties of memory, attention, judgment, imagina- 
tion, only those faculties which spend themselves entirely in 
states of consciousness and which serve either to conserve these 
states or to reproduce them, or to amplify them, or to compare 
them, or to decompose them. One never gets beyond them; 
they are considered not as means but as ends. Consequently 
it has been believed that in every act of thought, the emphasis 
must be placed upon the states of consciousness, even upon the 
imaginative representation, so that it has caused great surprise 
to learn that there can be thoughts without images, without words, 
and reduced to a feeling. Consequently again, it has been be- 
lieved that the explanation of the mental operations could be 
seen in the properties of images; the English School has wished 
to explain the reason of all mental phenomena without exception 
by the mechanism of the association of ideas, and recently a 
well-known author sought to explain attention by a state of 
mono-ideism. 

To this conception of a structural psychology we oppose its 
counterpart, that which gives action as the end of thought and 



154 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

which seeks the very essence of thought in a system of actions. 
All the consequences of this new orientation, at least if it succeeds 
in making itself accepted, will develop with time. There are 
intimate consequences that will make themselves felt in the man- 
ner of positing the most serious psychological problems, in par- 
ticular the manner of understanding the attention, generaliza- 
tion, and also the relation of the conscious to the unconscious, 
and the reciprocal influence of the emotions and the thoughts, 
and finally the relation of delirium to emotivity. We already 
have here the principal points upon which it seems to us great 
changes will take place. We note, as a logical example of the 
revolution which we predict, a new method for measuring the 
phenomena of consciousness; instead of measuring the intensity 
of these phenomena, which has been the vain and foolish ambition 
of the psycho-physicists, we shall measure the useful effects of 
the acts of adaptation, and the value of the difficulties conquered 
by them; there is here a measure which is not arithmetical, but 
which permits a lineal seriation, a hierarchy of the acts and of 
different individuals judged according to their powers. 

Questions of detail aside, if we seek to take into account the 
evolution of the whole, which we approve, we can assert that 
psychology, having become a science of action, takes on an al- 
together different attitude for pedagogy, for morals, and for 
scientific philosophy. 

For pedagogy it ceases to be the lonely exercise of hermits, 
a delight of the sophists, an application of "Know thyself" which 
has caused it to be said up to the present that this analytical 
science has no educative value. In obliging us to come out of 
our own inner consciousness, in order to understand our fellow- 
man in the life of action, it takes on an aspect of social science. 
In morals the consideration of ends permits it to receive inspira- 
tion from whatever there is that is useful and solid in the doc- 
trines of pragmatism in vogue. There again we encounter an 
interesting point of contact with the contemporaneous tendencies 
which are still vague, but very powerful. But it is especially 
by the manner of positing the great philosophical problem that 
the revolution will make itself felt, for while the psychologist 
of contemplation tends to detach himself from the exterior world 
and to seek only the differences between his states of conscious- 
ness and his own body, which produces a gulf between the physi- 



ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 155 

cal and the moral world; the psychologist of action, who sees 
that the physical and the moral concur in every act of adaptation, 
will apply himself rather to demonstrate their union, and instead 
of an antithesis, will tend to make a synthesis. 

Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 



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PART II 

The Language of the Feeble-Minded 



I. A NEW PSYCHOGENETIC METHOD 

We desire to draw the attention of our readers to a study which* 
in our opinion, constitutes a new psychological method ; this method 
consists in analysing the manifestations of intellectual phenomena 
among certam individuals designated by the names idiot, imbe- 
cile, and moron. Imbeciles perhaps form the most instructive 
group of all these defectives and it is of these only that we shall 
speak in our short article. We believe the method which we 
present is new and we hope that we shall be able to demonstrate 
its novelty. Our aflirmation may be doubted by those who know 
of the enormous literature which exists upon all defectives; but 
the clinicians who have devoted themselves to these patients and 
who have even made for them a vague pedagogy adorned with 
the pompous title of the medico-pedagogical method have never, 
so to speak, examined them from the point of view of the prob- 
lems which their mental state raises in regard to modern psy- 
chology. In fact the chapter upon "Backwards" is the most 
backward of all psychiatry.^ 

The method which we are going to describe is a psychogenetic 
method; let us characterize it first by indicating what branches of 
study it resembles and from what other branches it is differen- 
tiated. 

For the past thirty years the field of psychology has been so 
furrowed in every direction that it has become extremely diflScult 
to present a general view of the investigations which is coherent. 
There exists at the present time an objective psychology which is 
often opposed to a subjective psychology, terms vague and almost 
indefinable. In the same way experimental psychology has been 
opposed to pathological psychology, the authors failing to recog- 
nize by this distinction that the observation of these patients is 

' We hope that this appreciation will not be considered an unjust criti- 
cism upon certain good works that have appeared upon the psychology 
of imbeciles. The work of Dr. SoUier is well known, and for the epoch in 
which he wrote, is excellent. But psychological analysis has progressed 
greatly since that time and we are under the necessity of studying very 
many questions of which no one had then dreamed. 

159 



160 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

compatible with experimentations quite as complicated as for 
normal subjects and laboratory students. In this pathological 
branch are grouped together psychiatry and hypnotism although, 
both in regard to their value and their processes, they are entirely 
different. As for experimental psychology it is almost universally 
confounded with psycho-physics of which it is nevertheless only 
a very insignificant part; and this confusion is all the more regret- 
table because it permits those who condemn the barrenness of the 
psycho-physical to anathematize at the same time the whole psy- 
chology of experimentation which is supremely unjust. And 
moreover there is again physiological psychology whose domain 
is so badly defined that it is confused with normal psychology, 
with psycho-physics, and even with pathological psychology. 
This is chaos; and if the experts cannot always find themselves 
how can we suppose that the uninitiated can arrive at a clear idea 
of the whole? 

We are not attempting here to put an end to this chaos; that 
would take too long. In order to indicate the ground we intend 
to cover, it will suffice to divide all psychology into three fields 
according to the nature of the phenomena involved, and not ac- 
cording to the processes of investigation which are common to the 
three fields. The first group represents the phenomena which 
have attained their full development, a static condition; this is 
the study of the adult normal. The second group represents the 
phenomena which are in a stage of total or partial dissolution, or 
of derangement, in a word, which correspond in the main to the 
somewhat vague concept of pathological phenomena. The third 
group, the only one with which this article is concerned, repre- 
sents the phenomena in a stage of evolution; into this group 
enters first of all and above all the study of the child who repre- 
sents the most typical form of evolution; then, with various 
differences, we can compare the child with the individual belong- 
ing to a lower civilization who has long been called by the naive 
word savage; then we can compare him with the animal, and lastly 
with the defective. 

To be brief, we shall retain of this enumeration only the two 
extreme terms, the child and the defective. It has long been said 
that the defective is comparable to a child arrested in his develop- 
ment. We have in our asylums imbeciles of forty who are at the 
intellectual level of a normal child of five years. But it must be 



NEW PSYCHOGENETIC METHOD 161 

well understood that this resemblance is only roughly true. An 
imbecile of forty does not exactly resemble a normal child of five 
years; following the happy comparison of Kraepelin, he resembles 
him somewhat as would a caricature; he resembles him as much 
as an invalid can resemble a healthy person, as much as an awk- 
ward and uncouth being can resemble one who is all charm and 
grace. For the moment we shall not insist upon all the differ- 
ences which obviously are numerous and which are moreover 
imperfectly known; of these differences the following interests us 
more than the others because it justifies the psychogenetic method 
for defectives. The normal child of five years is continually 
developing; he does not remain, so to speak, a single instant at 
the same intellectual level; he is following an ascending curve. 
On the contrary, the adult imbecile of forty has terminated his 
development; he will be tomorrow or two years hence the same 
that he is today, that he was yesterday, that he was two years 
ago, or perhaps even that he was ten years ago. He does not 
follow an ascending curve; he treads a level platform, and conse- 
quently one can discern the qualities and resources of his intellec- 
tual level, better than as though it were the question of a child; 
one can learn, for instance, all the acquisitions which his intel- 
lectual level can command; one can learn if his degree of intelli- 
gence renders him capable of learning to read, to count, to acquire 
this or that practical knowledge; on the contrary, one remains 
ignorant of these things for a child of five, because such child has 
not yet had time to learn them, and by the time he has learned 
them he is no longer five years old but has mounted to a higher 
intellectual level. Here then, as we take it, is the great advantage 
of the psychogenetic method applied to imbeciles; it permits us to 
know by an experiment as prolonged as we desire to make it, all the 
resources of an intelligence, all its capacities, all its potentialities. 



II. APHASIA AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF LANGUAGE 

Let us leave generalities, and demonstrate by a precise example 
what we have just advanced. Psychology in its entirety could be 
viewed by this method but we cite only one particular phase, 
that of the development of language. 

The study of language will be very useful for our demonstra- 
tion because it will furnish us with the opportunity of comparing 
the results obtained by three different methods, first, the patho- 
logical method, brilliant and well known, which has given us the 
aphasias; second, the psychogenetic method, known but little 
used, which consists in studying the child; and, finally, third, 
another psychogenetic method almost unknown and never prac- 
ticed which consists in studying the imbecile. We shall also by 
a precise comparison observe the advantages of these different 
methods as well as their disadvantages. It must be well under- 
stood that we do not in any way attempt to establish a preemi- 
nence of one of these methods over the others. This would be 
neither correct nor kind. All the methods are useful; we are not 
in favor of exclusion but of synthesis; it is what we have always 
desired and always counseled. 

Let us first ask, what have we learned from the imposing array 
of the manifold works on aphasia that is of general application to 
the problem of the mechanism of language? Let us pass over the 
infinite number of details, certain ones of which have been very 
suggestive, and let us restrict ourselves to a general view. 

The study of aphasia has shown us in particular that what we 
call language does not represent a faculty unique, indivisible, 
moulded in a single piece, but is composed of a certain number of 
operations which are independent of each other, and that each 
may be destroyed or conserved to the exclusion of the others. 
This is the most important information that comes out clearly 
from all the observations which have been made upon aphasic 
cases as well as from all the diverse and often artificial theories 
which have been devised to express the difficulties of language. 
We recall merely that according to the simplest and most schematic 

162 



PSYCHOLOGY OF LANGUAGE 163 

of these theories, language results from the four following opera- 
tions: first, understanding; second, speaking; third, reading; fourth, 
writing, and that each of these operations may be suppressed 
separately by a cerebral accident. It has been disputed that this 
independence is equally complete for all but this matter of degree 
is of little import; what has been definitely proved is that there 
is some independence. Let us remark however that this func- 
tional independence can be realized only by an individual who is 
already in possession of the different mechanisms of language. 
It is the perfected mechanism which can act alone without the 
aid of the whole; it is necessary, for instance, that an individual 
should have previously heard language in order to continue speak- 
ing even when he has ceased to understand what he hears (word 
deafness). 2 The study of aphasia therefore, with many reserva- 
tions which we pass over, shows the absence of relation between 
the established functions. It does not show what relations are 
produced between the functions which are on the way to being 
established. There is here a place for another entirely different 
study. Every one knows or supposes that if the faculty of speech 
becomes independent of the faculty of understanding it is not so 
in the beginning at the time of its formation, and that the child 
born deaf remains necessarily a mute. How could he pronounce 
words that he had never heard or had not been taught by another 
means? Therefore at the moment of this elaboration of the func- 
tions, numerous relations exist between the budding functions and 
the study of this part of the phenomena may be termed the psycho- 
genesis of language. Aphasia does not comprise a psychogenesis, 
this must not be forgotten. 

The psychogenesis of language can be investigated by different 
methods, by means of studies on children, or on primitive peoples. 
We are going to show how the study of imbeciles, who up to a 
certain point constitute permanent children, can be turned to 
account. 

^ We omit in the text an aflSrmation which might be criticised because, 
according to Dejerine and other authors, spontaneous speech is profoundly 
altered in word deafness; the patient having lost verbal auditory percep- 
tion no longer understands his own speech and continually uses one word 
for another and misforms words. Other authors, as Marie and his school, 
do not, however, accept this as an explanation of the confusion observed. 



III. AN OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE. SCIENTIFIC 
DETERMINATION OF HER LEVEL 

As this article is only a short demonstration we shall limit our- 
selves to observing one subject in particular; this subject which 
we take from among many others is an imbecile of the lowest 
grade. According to the definition which we have proposed, we 
must place in the category of idiots all defectives who are incap- 
able of communicating with their fellows by speech. Our patient 
is not properly speaking an idiot; she is located upon the threshold 
between idiocy and imbecility because she is able to make herself 
understood by speech although to a very limited degree. By 
choosing this patient we are permitted to study the psychogenesis 
of language, the formation of the first word, the psychological 
conditions which are essential for the beginning of speech, and this 
is precisely the end that we have in view. 

Our patient Denise is a woman of twenty-five years, who belongs 
to a family of petits ouvriers. We suppress all purely medical 
details which would have no interest for our psychological analysis. 
Listen first to what the mother of Denise tells us regarding her 
poor child. There was no possibility of having illusions upon 
the mental state of the young girl. She was subjected to a 
medico-pedagogical treatment for eight years. What has she 
learned? Absolutely nothing her mother says; and of late she 
has even been deteriorating. (We give this opinion without 
taking any responsibility to ourselves.) The parents kept her 
for a long time at home. They considered her a child without 
intelligence but harmless. During her first years she took the 
breast normally and presented nothing exceptional. But she did 
not play or jump the rope as ordinary children do, although it 
amused her very much to watch the others play. The mother 
says with an excessive optimism that she understands every- 
thing; in reality she continually needs the help of those about her 
to perform the simplest acts. Awkward to the point of being 
unable to make a bow, she can nearly dress herself but must be 
watched to see that she does not put her clothes on wrong side 

164 



OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE 165 

out. She does not know how to comb her hair or wash her face; 
to do up her hair she turns it to one side and puts pins in it; 
she washes her hands mechanically without noticing the result. 
She eats alone decently enough, and can help herself to drink; 
her meat and bread must be cut; she is rather difficult to please 
in regard to her food, and would like to drink wine or cognac. 
It is only recently that she learned to open a door. She even 
learned to thread a No. 8 needle. She cannot be taught to do 
anything useful; in sewing she remains hours making the same 
stitch and the stitch once made she pulls it out. Or else she busies 
herself cutting rags or paper. If she sweeps she stops because 
she is without sequence in her ideas and leaves the dirt in the 
middle of the room. She cannot be made useful in preparing 
vegetables. She shells peas by biting them. She cannot, un- 
aided, do any useful work; someone must always be near to watch 
her. One cannot even tell her to gather the flowers; she will 
pluck anything. At such a level the imbecile is therefore practi- 
cally useless. 

Her disposition is sweet although a little restless; she is not 
contented anywhere; if she is in the house she always wishes to 
go outside. What pleases her most is music, singing, and espe- 
cially moving pictures. We are assured that she has a true voice 
in singing. She is affectionate, she loves everyone, but is spiteful, 
remembers an affront and does not wish to see the person again 
who offered it. She is timid, is afraid of fire and carriages. 
She is at times subject to violent fits of temper during which she 
beats her head with her fist or strikes it against the wall. She 
has even a little jealousy. Against whom? Against her mother's 
cat ! This last trait completes the portrait of the poor innocent. 

It remains to be seen for what reason she was placed in the 
asylum. The parents noticed that of late she had had convul- 
sions with blood in her mouth, jerking of the limbs and eyes turned 
back. Following these attacks she slept and snored loudly. At 
other times she simply lost consciousness after which she asked 
to urinate; in coming to herself her eyes were fixed and saliva was 
on her lips; a bonbon was put into her mouth. The parents 
were alarmed at these attacks which certainly had the charac- 
teristics of coma; they reproached themselves, the poor souls, for 
having kept their child at home. "You see," the mother said 
to the father, "it's all your fault; she ought to have been cared 



166 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

for at the hospital." As a result of all these fears they decided 
to place their child in the asylum. Let us add that these attacks 
are very infrequent with her. During the several months that 
we have been studying her they have only manifested them- 
selves once. 

Let us examine the patient. Short in stature (4 ft. 8 in.) 
somewhat stout, heavy, the waist thick; there is nothing abnormal 
about her physical appearance. The head is well formed but small 
like that of a child of ten years. The features are regular and 
well cut; there are no wrinkles; the face is fat, the cheeks pendant; 
there is in the whole body a general tendency to overweight. 
The subject is twenty-five but appears thirty. The countenance 
is wide awake and mobile; small black eyes, brilliant and lively, 
expression almost mischievous. The moment she enters our oflfice 
we hold out our hand; she shakes it and begins to laugh showing 
her white teeth. It is not simply a laugh but a foolish uncon- 
trolled laugh. We studied her during many sittings, because she 
was at our disposition whenever we wished, without interruption. 
At the least noise, the slightest gesture, at anything or nothing 
she bursts into loud laughter. She is a real child. During our 
many interviews, at every outside noise such as the ringing of a 
bell, the opening of a door, etc., she suddenly placed both hands 
on her abdomen. This was a play rather than a tic. 

This is not the only proof of her childishness; she is affected with 
echolalia and mimicry accompanied by all kinds of comical actions. 
If one coughs she coughs; if one blows his nose, she blows hers; if 
one laughs, she laughs. She repeats the last word of a sentence 
which is said or else says yes in acquiescence, even when one is 
paying no attention to her. At the same time she imitates what- 
ever one does. If one writes, she takes on a mischievous air and 
pretends to write with her finger on the table; if one scratches 
himself she scratches herself; if one crosses his arms she does the 
same; if one twirls his moustache she imitates the action. The 
imitation by gesture or voice is done quickly, accompanied with a 
laugh and mocking air but the imitation does not continue long. 
Very quickly her attention fails; Denise thinks of other things, 
looks about her, then after a time comes back to us and if we 
continue to write she resumes her imitative gestures. When she 
is not thinking of us her face suddenly becomes serious and 
nothing is more comical than the rapidity with which this poor 



OBSERVATION OP AN IMBECILE 167 

creature passes from seriousness to laughter. This tendency to 
laughter, to echolalia and mimicry manifests itself most strikingly 
when she is in a familiar environment. It is all done with the 
mischievous air of a school boy who makes fun of his master. 

Before a witness whom she does not know Denise is intimidated, 
remains shy, and shows no evidence of echolalia or mimicry. It 
is therefore something different from reflex echolalia, since it is 
under the influence of psychic causes and is exercised only under 
certain easily determined conditions. Neither is it a voluntary 
echolalia, the art of imitation as practised by a comedian who 
gives himself to this effort as others give themselves to any 
sort of work. It is an intermediate form which is at the same 
time partly reflex and partly voluntary and which very clearly 
expresses the childish character of Denise. 

Furthermore all her gestures reveal her mental level. Sitting 
by our side she picks her nose or scratches her head without 
sufficient reserve; from time to time she yawns noisily or sighs; 
at times she says "Mama" in a plaintive tone or carries her 
hand to her face; she has at such times a flushing of the face and 
she breathes heavily like someone who is very warm. Let us 
also add that she is very gentle, not at all stubborn and one can 
do with her whatever he will. This group of facts constitutes an 
attitude that is very peculiar, childish, gay, mocking and altogether 
feeble-minded. 

The facts here recorded show us that Denise has the character 
of a child; but she is not only backward as to character but also 
backward in intelligence; one can very well suspect this from all 
that we have said of her. Thus socially she is useless since she 
has neither enough application nor enough discernment to per- 
form the most humble task. One could not even employ her to 
sweep because even for that she would need watching. But all 
these little facts give only one impression. One must go farther 
and fix the position of this imbecile in the scale of intelligence. 

Without wishing to treat fundamentally a question which here 
presents itself only incidentally, let us recall the grades between 
which one might hesitate in classifying our imbecile; these grades 
are first, idiocy of the highest degree; second, imbecility of the 
lowest degree; third, imbecility of the intermediate degree. 

The table which we here give indicates briefly the mental 
capacities of these three degrees. 



168 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



High Grade Idiot. 



Lowest Grade Imbecile. 



Middle Grade Imbecile. 



High Grade Imbecile. 



Capable of understanding a gesture and of 
executing simple orders given by gesture, 
like coming, seating themselves, getting 
up; capable of imitating a gesture or an 
attitude when ordered, for instance, clap- 
ping the hands, dancing, crying, etc. 

Capable of understanding and executing sim- 
ple orders given verbally without gesture, 
for instance, "Get up! Where is your eye? 
Go bring me the bouquet which is on the 
table! Where is the ink-well? Show me 
a pencil! Where is the little girl in this 
picture?" 

(Capable of naming common objects when 
pointed out, of comparing two lines or two 
weights; and of copying a square. 

Capable of repeating three figures; of per- 
forming the three errands; of naming ex- 
actly certain pieces of money; naming the 
colors; counting 10 pins; knowing the 
names of the days of the week and the 
months of the year, and the number of 
fingers. 

Denise can pass all the tests of the high grade idiot; they are 
of course very easy and with the exception of the last do not sur- 
pass the intelligence of a dog.^ 

She passes the tests of low grade imbecility very well. Upon 
verbal command she rises, seats herself, dances, cries out. She 
points out objects named to her. She also designates in a pic- 
ture the object she is asked to find, a child, a window, a little cat, 
etc. by immediatelj'- putting her finger on it saying, "Aya!" with 
a childish expression of satisfaction. Moreover she is so sug- 
gestible that if one tells her to find an object which does not exist 
in the picture she points to anything. One might even believe 
that she always went at random, but an attentive study of her 
gestures shows that she understands very well what is named to 
her. 

* We must use a certain reserve in comparisons which one is tempted 
to draw between a human being and an animal in respect to their intelli- 
gence. The difference of the organs, larynx and anterior members, pre- 
vent an animal from performing acts of speech and of imitation without 
the level of his intelligence being necessarily the cause. 



OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE 169 

Denise fails in the tests for middle grade imbecility. She can 
scarcely name one of the objects presented to her. To the ques- 
tion, "What is this?" she replies, "Yes" and bursts into laughter. 
She cannot copy a square, or compare two lines or two weights. 
Wlien one gives her the two weights to compare and asks her which 
is the heavier she puts a finger upon each and replies, "That," 
with great satisfaction. She designates a line at random with 
complete inattention and from time to time she gives a great sigh 
as though complaining of the over strain demanded of her intelli- 
gence. She is therefore an imbecile of the lowest grade; her 
intellectual inferiority manifests itself in the tests that do not 
require speech, an important point. 

Another example of her intellectual inferiority, she cannot 
execute three orders at a time. She does one; if we ask her to 
get a flower which is on the table near at hand she quickly exe- 
cutes this simple order; but if we add two other orders, for instance, 
to strike three times on the door and change the position of a 
chair, she cannot execute successively these three orders; she can 
recall but one of them, most often the last, and after having exe- 
cuted that she returns completely satisfied and takes her seat. 

All this permits us to conclude that Denise is a low grade 
imbecile. It can be seen that this conclusion is not simply a 
formula, it implies and sums up a series of numerous tests and 
of verifications. 



IV. ANALYSIS OF THE STATE OF LANGUAGE OF THIS 

IMBECILE 

The intellectual level of Denise is so low as to have some influ- 
ence upon the development of her language. When one en- 
counters a subject so lacking in intelligence, one expects that he 
will speak very imperfectly. We shall study successively in Denise 
the three following points : 

1. The vocabulary in spontaneous speech. 

2. Articulation. 

3. Comprehension of spoken words. 

1. Vocabulary. To say that Denise does not speak would be 
an exaggeration; it is not complete mutism; she pronounces merely 
a few short, simple words which are almost all substantives, such 
as yes, no, papa, mama, pipi, aya, (for voild) good-day, and good- 
bye. The mother, indulgent and blind like all mothers, assures 
us that the vocabulary of Denise is composed of some forty words 
although she admits that she could never recognize nor pronounce 
the names of her brother or her sister. This evaluation of forty 
words seems to us exaggerated. There is still another word which 
Denise loves and which she often pronounces, it is zut. Several 
of these words really serve her the purpose of language; we mean 
by that she never uses them at random to amuse herself by the 
sound or as an exercise of the larynx, as children often do, or by 
false application to objects. Every time she uses them she gives 
them their exact meaning. Thus it has often happened that 
feeling a need she turned to us, no longer laughing, took on a 
most serious air and said, "Pipi." At another time seeing her 
completely occupied during our questioning in turning and look- 
ing at a cheap ring which she had on her finger we asked her, 
"Who gave you that ring?" She replied immediately and with- 
out the slightest hesitation, "Mama." This is indeed language. 
It has been seen that it is reduced to a very small number of 
common and proper nouns. Let us add that she rarely uses even 
the words that she knows, so that she seems mute. She might 
therefore be compared to a child of one or two years who has 

170 



LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 171 

commenced to speak but whose vocabulary is still very restricted. 
But there is a difference. The normal child is constantly making 
an effort to increase his little vocabulary; while still very young 
he subjects his larynx to exercises to produce suppleness and 
emits all sorts of varied sounds. This babble is foreign to Denise. 
She does not try to increase her verbal acquisition, an important 
difference such as is always found when one attempts to compare 
the defective with a normal child. 

In order not to forget it one might express this difference in 
the following terms. In the psychology of an individual there 
are two orders of phenomena, those which are acquired, repre- 
senting the results of a former development, and those which 
require the realization of an effort, an expenditure which must 
be made at the very moment; we refer the first phenomena to the 
psychology of conservation because they represent a structure 
already formed; the second group of phenomena should be referred 
rather to the psychology of acquisition. Thus to name an object 
whose name is already known is the psychology of conservation; 
to learn and retain the name of a known object belongs to the 
psychology of acquisition. One can already see that these two 
psychological processes are subject to different laws; among de- 
ments the conservation is always superior to the acquisition; the 
dement knows things which at that actual hour he would be 
unable to learn if he did not already know them; he constantly 
shows a contrast between his previous acquisitions and his actual 
capacities. We recall a general paralytic very much reduced who 
allowed himself to fall several times from the chair where he sat, 
by inadvertently leaning too much to one side while ravelling 
off the edge of a bandage which he had about his hand. Yet this 
same paralytic was still capable of reading. Among defectives 
the psychology of acquisition and the psychology of conservation 
are equal; the defectives have neither gone back nor progressed; 
they are today what they were yesterday; and they can acquire 
knowledge on a par with that which they already possess. Lastly, 
among normal children the formula changes once more. The 
function is superior to the organ; the power of acquisition sur- 
passes that of conservation because children progress unceasingly, 
they become constantly better, they are superior today to what 
they were yesterday; the future belongs to them. 

2. Articulation. Another point of resemblance between Denise 



172 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



and a young child is that she has difficulties of speech which very 
much resemble the natural dyslalia of a little child. Little chil- 
dren pass normally through a period of imitation when they do their 
best to reproduce the sounds they have heard or that they them- 
selves have invented in pronouncing at random. Their efforts at 
reproduction are complicated by awkwardness or errors; often a 
child is incapable of pronouncing certain consonants for months 
and even for years; he either suppresses them or replaces them 
by others; some authors call this difficulty of articulation lisping 
while others prefer to designate it by the name of natural dyslalia. 
It is essential to come to an understanding about the nature of 
these difficulties of speech. They must not be confounded with 
mechanical dyslalia which results from a malformation of the 
organs of articulation, nor with the dyslalia accompanying a 
nervous temperament; to distinguish these latter is important 
and the error which one would commit in confounding them 
would be as great as if one confounded the awkwardness of a 
gesture with paralysis, the contraction or the convulsion of a 
member. 

We ask Denise to repeat the short words or letters or figures 
which we pronounce before her; she understands what we wish 
and lends herself as best she can to the attempt; one can almost 
recognize the word she pronounces but it is much distorted. 

Here are some examples. 



WORDS PRONOUNCED 


WORDS REPEATED 


WORDS PRONOUNCED 


WORDS REPEATED 


BY VS 


BY DENISE 


BY US 


BY DENISE 


pa 


ba 


gateau 


toto 


papa 


papa 


monsieur 


tesui (?) 


bobo 


bopo 


madame 


dada 


pif 


pitui 


caca 


pipi 


ga 


ba 


beb6 


b6b6 



These imitations are rendered difficult by the bursts of laughter 
and also by that very particular mental state which we call 
n'importequisme (no-matter-what-ism) which consists in being 
satisfied with the first approximation that comes to mind. We 
cannot guarantee that the words which we attribute to Denise 
have been articulated by her in exactly the manner that we have 
written them; the pronunciation is so defective that sometimes 



LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 



173 



one does not know exactly what one hears, 
same for the letters of the alphabet: 



We have done the 



WHAT WE 
SAID 


WHAT WAS 
REPEATED 


SAID 


REPEATED 


SAID 


REPEATED 


SAID 


REPEATED 


a 


a 


d 


d 


1 


e 


S 


6 


e 


e 


f 


e 


m 


e 


t 


d 


1 


1, u, Ul 


g 


M 


n 


6 


u 


vu 


o 


o? 


h 


a 


o 


veu 


V 


i6 


u 


u 


i 


rrr 


P 


d 


w 


d6d6w6 


b 


g6 


J 


J 


q 


vu 


y 


iducce 


c 


ge 


k 


a.6 


r 


r 


z 


4d 



Conformable to what we have observed with children the vowels 
are better pronounced than the consonants. Nearly all the vowels 
are well pronounced as are also several consonants, especially the 
d and the g. But we have not thought it worth while to make a 
careful study of this difficulty of speech in order to find what 
part belongs to the organs of speech, to defective audition, or 
especially to the mental state of the subject. This extremely 
difficult study, very much more difficult than instructive, would 
take us too far from our program. The essential point is that 
the dyslalia of Denise is not the direct and only cause which 
prevents her from speaking. She might be able to talk even 
while articulating badly; she does not seem to realize that she 
misforms the sounds which she is asked to repeat and moreover, 
we are persuaded that she has not the mental state of those 
stammerers who remain silent because they are afraid to show 
their difficulties of speech. 

M. Marius Dupont, professor at the National Institute for 
deaf-mutes at Paris, communicated to us recently the very 
curious observation* of a little blind child of five years, who pro- 
nounces only vowels; when he wishes to say, "Merci, maman 
cherie," which is his favorite sentence, he pronounces the follow- 
ing series of sounds: e, i, a, a, e, i, which his nurse understands 
very well. Here is indeed a typical case of alalia. It seems to 
us important to remark that Denise has by no means so deep- 
seated a trouble of pronunciation and, consequently, if she limits 
her language to pronouncing only eight or ten words the cause of 

^ This observation appeared in the Bulletin de la Societe de l' enfant, 
1907. 



174 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

her lack of development of speech must belong to another order 
than that of difficulty of articulation. 

Verbal perception. As an interesting contrast this subject under- 
stands speech. She is almost a mute but she does not have word 
deafness and her comprehension of speech is sufficient to lend 
itself to different complicated tests. Here in fact are orders 
given her which she executed without the accompaniment of any 
gesture which would enlighten her upon the sense of the words: 

Clap your hands! She claps her hands. 

Dance! She makes contortions with her arms. 

R7in! She runs a little in the room. 

Sing! She does not sing, probably does not dare before us, but after 
hesitation yawns noisily. We suppose that for her this amounts to the 
same thing. 

Go and open the door! She goes to the door and taps it with her hand. 

Go and get me a hook from the table! She executes the order. 

Read! She makes the gesture of holding a book under her eyes. 

Where is your eye, your nose, your ear, your hand? Designates exactly 
each time. 

Where is my watch? Indicates my watch which is on the table. 

Where is the floor? Raises her arm and indicates the ceiling. 

The key of the lock? Says "There" and points to the hole in the lock. 

The pins? Points to the pins that are on the table. 

The basin? Points to a basin that is on a nearby table. 

The placard? Points at random to the wall. 

The table cover? Points to the cloth on the table. 

The penholder? First points in the air then designates the cloth on the 
table. 

The eye glass? Points in the air and raises herself comically on her feet. 

The gas jet? Points to the gas jet in the room. 

Where is your left hand? Points to her abdomen. 

All these indicative gestures are executed with greatest earnest- 
ness, her joy is excessive, her laugh bursts out amid the most 
comical movements. Denise often pronounces the word "aya!" 
in pointing to an object, which doubtless signifies voild (here). 

Other quite complicated sentences show the extent of her power 
of comprehension. 

Q. Come here. 

A. (She comes with her chair). 

Q. Do you see the music box which is on the table? 

A. Yes. 

Q. You will be good enough to take it to the table at the side. 

A. L& (She does the action). 

Q. Will you go and get it and put it in the pocket of M. S. ? 



LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 175 

(She brings it from the table.) 

Q. Will you be so obliging as to sit down? 

She obeys. 

Q. Will you put that object in the pocket of M. S. ? 

She places it on the table. 

Q. Will you give us a little air by opening the door behind me? 

She takes the music box. 

Q. The order is repeated. 

She goes towards the door. 

Several repetitions of the order. She wanders about the room. 

Q. Will you take a pin and put it on a chair? 

She wanders about the room. 

Repetition of the order. 

A. Pipi. 

Q. Pull your ear. 

She does it. 

Q. Give yourself a box on the cheek. 

Her two fists held tight she strikes her extended cheeks. 

Q. Pinch your nose. 

A. There! (She puts her index finger on her nose.) 

Q. Scratch your hand. 

She claps her hands together. 

Q. Throw your handkerchief in the air. 

She obeys. 

To other questions she can answer yes or no always nodding 
her head; her repHes are often given with a discernment which 
proves she has understood. Thus she will say, "yes," if one asks, 
"Are you a good girl?" "Do you wish a bonbon?" On the 
contrary she will not fail to reply, "No," if asked "Do you wish 
to go to bed?" 

All these examples show that her verbal comprehension is real 
although limited and changeable. We have been able to give a 
quite complicated sentence, "Throw your handkerchief in the air," 
which was understood. Others were not. Like a child Denise 
catches one word and guesses at the rest; but at times she catches 
nothing, so that one cannot foresee even when one knows her well 
whether or not she will understand a given sentence because her 
comprehension is very uncertain. 

Animal sensitivity to verbal perception. It seems to us that in 
a certain measure Denise understands like an animal and, more- 
over, that the acuteness of her verbal perception is very great, 
much greater than one would have supposed. In the first place 
she is extremely sensitive to the intonation of the sentences pro- 
nounced. When asking her if she is good we can by the inflec- 



176 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

tion of our tones obtain from her at will either the answer yes or 
the answer no. We do not know exactly in what the difference 
consists of the two intonations which we employ with this definite 
end in view; we can only say that one of them which terminates 
in a high note tends to suggest an affirmation, while the other, 
which ends in a lower note and which is like a disapprobation, 
tends to suggest a negation. Is it not singular that this defective 
grasps so slight a shade of meaning when she has so little intelli- 
gence that she cannot even shell peas but tears them open with 
her teeth? It is because we have here to deal with that part of 
the comprehension of language which is not only human but ani- 
mal. Bear in mind that a dog is also very sensitive to the varied 
intonations of the voice of his master; he knows very well if he is 
flattered, if one is satisfied with him, if one is sad, if one repri- 
mands him, if one is angry, and since he does not understand 
grammatical construction, it is clearly the intonation which guides 
him. Lubbock has shown that because the dog is an excellent 
observer it is possible to present him before the public as being 
able to read and to execute orders written in advance upon a 
placard. Very curious experiments have been made recently in 
Germany upon a learned horse that was exhibited in public; this 
horse divined from the slightest movement of the head and eyes 
of his master what he was to do, how many blows of his hoof he 
was to give, or rather, knocking with his hoof a series of blows, he 
knew when he must stop, etc. Curious the master did not know 
how his own thought could be divined by this beast! One can 
easily collect among animals a great number of examples of 
feats of intelligence which require a very fine perception and a 
great talent of observation. It is really curious that this fineness 
of perception, altogether animal, should be found among defectives. 
Let us hasten to add that the normal individual possesses it also; 
but he possesses it from birth like the animals ; it is a gift which 
he has not developed. 

Denise is also very skillful in distinguishing in a sentence the 
affirmation or the negation, even though she is incapable of under- 
standing the sentence. Thus, the sentence, "Isn't it true that there 
are artillerymen in the artillery f" provokes an acquiescence; while 
the sentence, '^ Isn't it true that there are no artillerymen in the 
artillery" f provokes a hvely negation with her head. Denise has 
therefore perceived in the midst of all these incomprehensible 
words the difference between "there are," and ''there are no." 



V. DISCUSSION OF THREE HYPOTHESES UPON THE 
ABSENCE OF SPEECH IN OUR SUBJECT 

Let us now analyze the sjmaptoms which we have just described 
and attempt to interpret them. 

It is evident at the outset that Denise presents an excellent 
case of dissociation between the faculty of speech and the faculty 
of comprehending speech, and this dissociation must be brought 
more clearly to light and then explained if this is possible, 

Denise understands very well the words of certain sentences, 
therefore she must have a certain memory for words; she must 
have such memory in order to recognize the words pronounced, 
because, if she did not recognize them, she would not comprehend 
them ; she must also have this memory in order to execute a com- 
mand which is not immediate but which requires a little time. 
She is told to go and get a bouquet that is on the table; while she 
is on the way she must remember for a certain time what is said 
to her otherwise she could not execute the command and would 
come back empty handed. 

How then does it happen that being capable of recalling a word 
she should be incapable of pronouncing it? This observation 
proves above every thing else the independence of these two 
faculties. Certain authors have insisted that the muscular sense 
is such an important thing that even to understand a word we 
partly articulate it. Denise takes it upon herself to refute this 
exaggerated opinion; this may be true of certain individuals of 
an accentuated motor type but it has no general value. Denise 
in fact understands a sentence of five or six words but is incap- 
able of repeating a single one of those words. But this indepen- 
dence of the two functions once verified, it remains to be explained 
how it happens that this subject has not obeyed the very natural 
phenomenon of psycho-motor induction, and that, having posses- 
sion of these words through memory, she has not become apt in 
pronouncing them. Where is the obstacle? 

Let us first note what happens with children and with animals. 

At eight or ten months a normal child already understands 

177. 



178 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

many words. He does not commence to speak until much later, 
at fifteen or eighteen months. With the adult also the faculty of 
comprehension surpasses constantly that of execution. How 
many unknown words there are whose sense one can divine, sen- 
tences complex and delicately shaded that one understands, and 
that one could not invent or even repeat! Let us take an extreme 
example: the dog recognizes his name and a dozen other words, 
as cheese, soup, go out, get away, etc. ; and yet he could certainly 
never bark out a single word. All these facts lead to the con- 
clusion that it is normal for one to understand language long 
before one can speak. 

Is it the same with our patient? This can be disputed. Three 
fundamental explanations can be suggested; they are fundamental 
as it seems to us because any others that could be imagined are 
but the variations of these three. 

The first consists in assuming an acquired aphasia. Then one 
would have to admit that Denise had been striken with a circum- 
scribed lesion in the nervous centers of articulated language; one 
would have to admit, for example, if one is a localizer of the old 
school, that Denise is reduced to the pronunciation of so few 
words because she has been the victim of an accident, a softening 
for instance, in the third left frontal convolution. In the hospi- 
tals for deaf-mutes, children have been observed who present 
the unusual association of the two following symptoms ; they hear 
but they do not speak; according to the usual expression under 
such circumstances they are hearing-mutes. It has been admitted 
that they suffer from a cerebral lesion which has produced in 
their cases a motor aphasia of articulation. Has our imbecile 
Denise also aphasia produced by a cerebral lesion? We do not 
think so. Upon this point, be it well understood, we can only 
conjecture; only we remark that by her clinical aspect she does not 
at all resemble an aphasic patient. When an adult who has once 
spoken is deprived of articulate language by a circumscribed 
cerebral lesion, one always observes in him an evident contrast 
between his desire, his need of speech on the one hand, and his 
absence of speech on the other. With Denise nothing of this 
kind is observed; she makes no effort to speak. Besides, and this 
second argument is still more decisive than the first, she has 
never spoken better than she now speaks; she has not therefore 
been deprived of a function that she had exercised previously. 



ABSENCE OP SPEECH — DISCUSSION 179 

A second hypothesis, very distinct from the preceding, would 
consist in admitting that Denise and subjects who resemble her 
are stricken with congenital motor aphasia. There would also be 
among idiots, those defectives who do not even understand articu- 
late language, a congenital word deafness. These expressions have 
already been proposed by different authors; but in proposing them, 
one has not seemed to realize their bearing; it has even sometimes 
been believed that the expression was the equivalent of saj-ing 
simply has never spoken, has never understood speech! We do not 
in the least agree with this manner of looking at the matter; and 
to show the error it is sufficient to remark that it would be an 
incongruity equal to that of saying of a normal child of two months, 
who as yet understands nothing of what is said to him, this child 
is stricken with congenital word deafness; obviously, this would 
be absurd. Congential aphasia imphes a lack of development of 
the organs necessary to language, an atrophy sufficiently accentu- 
ated to have a really pathological character and to constitute a 
contrast between the arrested development of the centers of lan- 
guage and the much greater development of the other centers of 
the same brain. This is truly the only reasonable meaning that 
one can give to these expressions. 

But, in place of the hypothesis of the failure of language through 
local accidents we prefer another hypothesis which brings in the 
level of intelligence. It seems to us that, exactly like a child 
of ten months, Denise does not speak because she is not 
intelligent enough to speak. This last explanation, to which we 
give our preference, is not of an essentially psychological nature, 
and we ask that it be not opposed to the preceding, as a psycho- 
logical hj'-pothesis which would be opposed to an anatomical or 
physiological hypothesis. It is for convenience of language, and 
in order to be more quickly understood, that we say that the 
lack of language of our patient is to be attributed to the inferiority 
of her intellectual level; this same thought could easily be trans- 
lated into anatomical terms, and one could say equally well that 
if there is in Denise an atrophy of the centers of language, this 
atrophy is neither greater nor less than for that of the rest of 
her brain. What has been learned up to this time from autopsies 
made upon the brains of imbeciles points in this direction. We 
do not know that a special localized reduction of volume in the 
cerebral centers that control language has been observed among 
imbeciles. 



180 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

What are the reasons which make us admit that it is the intel- 
lectual level of Denise that is responsible for her pseudo-aphasia? 
Let us recall first what is beyond all discussion. Denise is a low 
grade imbecile. 

A very strong argument in favor of our explanation results 
from the comparison of Denise with other imbeciles. We have 
often said we must not make a study of only one of these sub- 
jects, they must be brought together and a synthesis made of 
all the observations. Moreover we can demonstrate that imbe- 
ciles in general speak little ; and middle-grade imbeciles especially 
speak a very limited language; they make very short sentences 
with rudimentary syntax. The case of Denise, when closely com- 
pared to theirs, becomes clear; it no longer has an isolated char- 
acter, as would be the case if Denise had been the victim of some 
cerebral accident ; one has the feeling that with low grade imbe- 
ciles a lack of the development of language reigns supreme, and 
that Denise has carried this common trait to its maximum. 



VI. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL CONDITION OF SPEECH; 
EXPERIMENTS AND THEORY 

A skeptic who had followed our discussion might say, "You 
take a great deal of pains for nothing. By a great reinforcement 
of arguments, you have demonstrated that if your patient does 
not speak, or speaks very little, it is because she is in the same 
mental state as a little child of from eight to twelve months who 
also understands many words but does not yet speak. For the 
general study of imbecility no doubt it is an advantage to demon- 
strate that the lack of language among these patients depends 
upon the weakness of their intelligence. But you do not wish 
here to pose as a clinician, you are using only psychology; you are 
seeking to discover the psychological conditions of the formation 
of language. Therefore why should you take an imbecile for 
study when all your effort will consist in concluding that these 
things take place in her as though she were a little normal child. 
Would it not be more simple, more clear, more decisive to leave 
your imbecile, and confine yourself to the study of the normal 
child?" 

It is very evident that we have made these objections to our 
own method because we know how to reply to them. 

It is very true that children understand the language of those 
about them long before they can speak; and it has always appeared 
logical that the phase of comprehension always precedes the phase 
of speech although the two phases overlap each other. This 
chronological order is reasonable; before giving one must receive; 
before pronouncing a word one must know it. But one has never 
gone farther than to affirm the logic of this chronology, and the 
very pretty problem which is there posed has not been seen, 
because one thought only of normal children. Here is the prob- 
lem stated in expHcit terms. A child of twelve months, for in- 
stance, understands the sense of some sixty words which he hears 
almost constantly. Why does he not spontaneously pronounce 
them on his own account when he has the idea to do it? It seems 
to us that this problem is fundamental, because it puts directly 

181. 



182 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

before us the psychogenetic conditions of speech; but those who 
study only the normal child never dream of putting it; they simply 
say, "Give the normal child time to familiarize himself with the 
60 words which he understands but cannot yet pronounce." Or 
one will reply, "If he does not yet pronounce the words it is because 
he does not yet feel the need, that he has not the idea, etc." 

These replies only evade the problem. One sees this very well 
when one deals with an imbecile such as our subject Denise. Here 
is a young girl of twenty-five years, who certainly understands 
more than two hundred words even in complicated sentences and 
who employs scarcely one, and who will probably remain all her 
life at the stage of comprehension without being able to arrive 
at that of spontaneous speech. Evidently one can not in a similar 
case reply that the subject has not yet had time to perfect herself 
or that she does not pronounce these words because she has not 
yet felt the need. Neither can one be content with remarking 
that her intelligence is the cause, and that the poverty of her 
vocabulary is explained by a falling away of her intelligence; the 
intelligence is a unit and the explanation lacks precision. Let us 
strive to find, therefore, what is essential to spontaneous speech 
and let us see whether or not this essential mechanism is lacking 
in our patient. 

We are obliged to resort somewhat to theory, for which we 
apologize, but it cannot be dispensed with. In order to institute 
an experiment as is our intention one must have a little guiding 
thread. 

It is a question of pronouncing a word oneself, a word known to 
everyone, but in which one takes the initiative. Let us say, 
in order to fix our ideas, that it is the question of a word desig- 
nating an object before us, a chair or a table; let us say that our 
subject is not alone but is with another person who shows him 
the table, and who asks, "What is that?" Let us further say that 
our subject understands the sense of the request made of him, 
and let us pass by all that is implied in that comprehension, and 
linait ourselves to the pronunciation of that simple reply which 
should be given, "a table." 

For the subject to be capable of pronouncing this simple word 
properly under the given conditions so that it will be easily under- 
stood, many conditions must be realized. Let us enumerate all 
those which we can imagine. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 183 

1. It is necessary to know and to understand in a general manner 
that words serve to designate objects, and that their function is 
to name objects. This knowledge, expressed in abstract form, 
appears subtle; but it is only subtle in our manner of expressing 
it and of taking it into account. In reality, it is accessible to 
very rudimentary intelligence, since domestic animals understand 
the language of gesture and even of words. Recently a dog has 
been reported who obeyed the command, "Go and bring my 
slippers." 

2. The second condition is more precise; it is necessary to 
possess an association of a certain nature uniting definite words 
to definite things. It is necessary that the word chair be united 
in memory to the chair, to its visual aspect, to its use, in such a 
manner that when one pronounces the word before the subject, 
this person has the idea of its signification. We have however 
seen that comprehension always precedes spontaneous speech, 

3. Another association must also exist, which acts in an inverse 
sense, that is from the idea to the word ; it is necessary that when 
the object is perceived, or conceived, this perception or this idea 
should be able to awaken the memory of the word and produce 
the mental evocation. 

4. One must have the power of pronouncing the word, that is 
to say of executing the phonetic movements necessary for its 
articulation. 

It will be noted that in this brief analysis, reduced to the maxi- 
mum of simplicity, we have not had recourse to the hypothesis 
of motor images of articulation. Do such images exist? It may 
be doubted. In any case it is of no interest here to raise a diffi- 
cult question which we can easily afford to pass. 

Let us now return to our imbecile, and let us see what it is 
that prevents her from speaking spontaneously. Is it the evoca- 
tion of the word? Is it the pronunciation? 

Her pronunciation is defective, certainly, and there is here per- 
haps a slight obstacle to the development of her language. But 
we can eliminate this obstacle in certain precise experiments and 
see what is produced in consequence. In this manner we could 
convince ourselves that her difficulty in articulation in nowise 
prevents her from speaking. Let us take advantage of the fact 
that she pronounces correctly and easily the word, "papa" in 
echolalia, that is to say when it is pronounced before her. There 



184 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

is no difficulty of articulation with this word; let us use it then 
for oar experiments. 

We take a music box which we find by chance upon the table 
of our office where we are with our imbecile; we show the object 
to her while saying and repeating over and over, "You see what 
I have here? You see this object? You see it? See what it 
is! Look well at it! I am going to tell you what it is. You 
don't know what it is? I am going to tell you. Well it is papa. 
Do you hear? It is papa! Papa! Papa! It is papa!" We con- 
tinue thus with ardor to repeat the same words, all the time mov- 
ing the object, looking at it, pointing to it, and making every 
effort to fix the attention of the patient upon the object. 

Denise, who is amused by the play, repeats after us "papa," 
and we even make her touch the music box, while repeating after 
us the same word. We thus succeed in quite rapidly forming an 
association between the object and word. If in fact we ask her 
some time afterwards, when we have replaced the object on the 
table, "Where is papa? Give me papa," she points to the music 
box on the table without hesitating, although there are a dozen 
other articles upon the table, and although we do not facilitate 
the designation by a gesture or a glance towards the object. But 
this association which is formed is imilateral. If we take the music 
box and say, "What is this? What is this called?" She never 
says "papa," she says nothing, she stands with her mouth open. 

Let us first examine this unilateral association. It has under- 
gone many fiuctuations. Three minutes after the experiment it 
seems to have disappeared. If we again ask her where is papa, 
she points to one of us. In response to a sign of disapprobation, 
she points to the table and puts her finger insistently upon the 
table; all the time that we repeat the question, "Where is papa?" 
she replies "aya" while designating either the table or the cloth 
on the table; she even identifies the table, it would seem, with 
the memory of her real father, and leans over and embraces the 
table with comical expressions of affection. Our lesson is there- 
fore forgotten. We begin over again presenting the music box, 
which is there all the while, and we affirm over again that it is 
papa. Denise immediately accepts the correction, begins again 
to show the music box when one asks for papa, and even embraces 
the object devotedly as she did the table. 

From this moment the association is established. Five minutes 



PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 185 

afterwards when one asks for papa, she shows the music box with- 
out hesitation and embraces it. Even better, two days later we 
see Denise again in the same surroundings; and immediately 
before saying another word we ask, "Where is papa?" Without 
hesitation, she turns to the table, takes the music box and gives 
it to us. Note carefully that every time we make the demand 
we are very careful not to cast a glance toward the object which 
might guide the patient. There is therefore established in her, 
thanks to the experiment which we have made, an association of 
ideas which goes from the word heard to the object. 

But never, when we present the music box, has she said "papa;" 
no more at the second than at the first sitting. She contented 
herself by replying to the question many times repeated, "What is 
this?" by "yes," or else she taps the object laughing, and pro- 
nounces nothing. Perhaps one might have secured better results 
after many weeks of training. But as it now stands our experi- 
ment seems to us to be complete; it demonstrates that to pass 
from the object to the name, our subject experiences a very much 
greater difficulty than to pass from the name to the object, which 
is the important fact we wished t9 demonstrate. 

Nevertheless it is not the pronunciation of the word that em- 
barrasses her; she has no difficulty of articulation, because she 
repeats the word papa, after having heard it; moreover one can 
obtain its repetition from her in all sorts of intonations; still more, 
one can lead her to repeat it when it is pronounced before her in 
a whisper; and it has even happened that when we pronounced 
before her the word "mama" in a very low voice, she had never- 
theless said papa. She can then pronounce the word from repe- 
tition, or more rarely from suggestion by a movement of the lips; 
it is inductive evocation excited by audition or by seeing the move- 
ment of the lips. 

What is lacking in her, is the evocation of the word by presenta- 
tion of the object, that is to say, through lack of the idea of sense. 

Here then is the conclusion at which we arrive; it is a conclu- 
sion which, from the psychological point of view, note this well, 
does not bring into play any special memory, nor any of the 
images which have been so much used and abused in the different 
theories of aphasia and which have for this reason taken on such 
an artificial character. From our point of view there are three 
necessary stages in the acquisition of language. 



186 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

1. The comprehension of words, of which we shall say very- 
little here, and which, roughly speaking, consists in associating 
the spoken word with the idea. 

2. The articulation of words consisting in the habits acquired 
by the organs of articulation under the supervision of the ear and 
the auditory memory. 

These two phases succeed each other but the second is not 
implied in the first nor is it the logical development of it. The 
word that one hears and that one understands is not the same that 
one pronounces. In the one case it is a question of an auditory 
sensation or of an auditory memory, and in the second case it 
is a motor act. It is therefore quite possible that one may have 
heard and may be capable of representing or of recognizing what 
one has heard, without for that reason being clever enough to 
coordinate the movements necessary for pronouncing. Exactly 
as it is possible that one might have seen an artist paint a pic- 
ture and yet be incapable of painting. There is therefore a whole 
apprenticeship to be made, and we see or rather we infer that for 
many reasons this apprenticeship is long and consequently the 
advent of spoken language is retarded; the phonetic movements 
are very much more delicate and probably very much more 
difficult to execute than the gestures of the limbs; and the proof 
is, that the idiot and the low grade imbecile, who have become 
capable of executing movements of the body under our order, 
such as to get up, sit down, raise the arms, etc., do not succeed 
in controlling their larynx and in drawing from that instrument 
articulate sounds. That which further proves the difficulty of 
articulation as compared with other movements, is all the awk- 
wardness of pronunciation which we observe in subnormals and 
which are much more frequent among them than among normals. 

3. The third phase is the evocation of coordinated movements 
of the larynx. This evocation is difficult and continues so even 
when the movements have been acquired with their coordination 
and one is already able to pronounce a word. The most simple 
and direct means of evocation is the audition of the corresponding 
articulated sound; another means is the sight of the movement 
of the lips. It is, on the contrary, very much less easy to pass 
from the idea of a thing to the execution of the phonetic move- 
ment necessary for naming that thing. We ourselves can realize 
this difficulty when, thinking of a known person, we have trouble 



PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 187 

in recalling his name; it must be that this difficulty is really great 
since it is sufficient to block the way for Denise and prevent her 
from ever employing articulate speech. 

It is this third phase, up to the present misunderstood or at 
least little known, which has been clearly brought out by the 
observation of our imbecile. It is a phase having a character of 
utilization, a dynamic character. If we attempt to represent 
what is passing in the mind of Denise at the moment when we 
are vainly attempting to make her give the name with which 
we have baptized the music box, we find that not a single one of 
the elements necessary for finding the name is lacking. She 
knows the word papa, since she has already heard it and recog- 
nized it; this proves that she has retained the auditory memory 
of it; she is capable of pronouncing the word, since she pronounced 
it in echolalia; she has retained the sense of the word, since she 
goes and gets the music box when she is told to show us papa. 
It can be seen that an author, partisan to the importance of 
images in aphasia, would recognize that all the images are here 
present. What is lacking is the realization of the existing asso- 
ciations, the functioning of estabhshed habits, the particular mode 
of functioning which enables us to pass from the idea to the 
phonetic act. 



VII. COMPARISON BETWEEN APHASIA PROPERLY SO- 
CALLED AND THE POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 
OF THE LOW-GRADE IMBECILE 

It has often been said that certain idiots and imbeciles deprived 
of speech are aphasics; we ourselves in studying certain of our 
subjects, Denise for instance, the young woman whose speech is 
reduced to four or five words, have discussed the idea that she 
might be stricken with some cerebral lesion which has produced 
in her the symptoms of motor aphasia. Our conclusion has been 
negative. Abandoning our patient we are now going to examine 
a true aphasic from cerebral lesion and make on this occasion a 
parallel between the aphasia symptoms produced by lesions and 
the symptoms of the lack of language observed with idiots and 
imbeciles. 

M. X. a man of thirty nine years exercising the profession 

of clock maker was stricken about a year ago with aphasia. We 
have only this single bit of information in regard to him. He 
presents himself to us with all the outward signs of a man of 
intelligence. His manner of salutation, of taking the proffered 
chair, of listening to us is quite different from that of an imbecile. 
If we speak to him he leans forward and makes a visible effort to 
understand us and if he does not understand he lets us know by 
an expressive gesture that he desires us to repeat. From time 
to time he himself starts to speak; he makes many gestures with 
great earnestness, even rises to give more force to his exposition, 
touches the table, indicates certain points of the table, then of 
his body, but since his vocabulary is reduced to six or eight words 
we are not able to grasp his thought. From time to time he per- 
ceives that he has not made himself understood, or rather he 
perceives that the word sought for fails him, because in the 
middle of his efforts, he stops and says in a grave discouraged 
voice, "No, not that," then he falls into an immovable and re- 
signed silence. We note also that when he speaks in his own 
way, he continues to do so only because we appear to be listening 
to him. If we turn away our eyes or speak to another person he 

188 



APHASIA VS. POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 189 

immediately perceives it and is silent, possibly from a feeling of 
propriety. All these signs prove that he retains an intelligence 
very superior to that of an imbecile. The only point where the 
subject seems to lack comprehension is this; the explanations 
which he gives us by gesture are practically incomprehensible to 
us, and yet he does not always seem to perceive this ; he seems to 
imagine that we can understand him. 

A word upon his intelligence in general. We possess two tests 
of intelligence not dependent upon speech, which indicate an 
intelligence superior to imbecility; these are the arranging of five 
weights and a quite complicated game of patience. No one lower 
in intelligence than a moron can place the 5 weights in order; and 
the game of patience is only possible to a high grade moron. Our 
aphasic came out well in both tests although he was slow in the 
execution. He found it difficult to weigh the weights two by 
two so as to find the heaviest but once well begun he succeeded in 
arranging them exactly. The game of patience also embarrassed 
him but he studied it with intelligence and after many fruitless 
and prolonged attempts he at last arrived at the exact solution. 
All this proves that his intelligence is notably superior to that of 
an imbecile; it is at least equal to that of a moron. 

Let us now make the analysis of the aphasic phenomena which 
this patient presents. He is especially stricken with motor aphasia 
or aphemia; he is moreover incapable of reading, or of writing from 
dictation, and is in the third degree of word deafness. Let us 
remark at once that this combination of aphasia symptoms recalls 
in a striking manner what we noticed in the observations of our 
imbecile Denise. 

Articulate speech. Spontaneously our invalid employs a very 

limited number of words: "yes, no that, yes that, no 

no that, yes that, no 1 wait " are the current 

expressions with which he accompanies his gestures when he 
wishes to give an explanation. From time to time he utters a 
word more complicated as comrade, clock. Of course we do not 
pretend to give a complete list of the vocabulary which he still 
retains; the important thing is to notice how much it is reduced 
in the spontaneous speech of ideation which consists in expressing 

a personal thought. X retains a few more words in the 

speech of automatic recitation, which consists in repeating words 
learned in a series, than in spontaneous speech of ideation. It is 



190 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

thus that he manages to count aloud to twenty; this recitation is 
performed with a great deal of effort and with much time, but 
very correctly. There is here an interesting contrast with the 
spontaneous speed of ideation. We will say the same of the speech 
of denomination. If one presents to him a familiar object, pencil, 
pen holder, book, watch, paper, or asks him the color of an object, 

X sometimes is ignorant of the name of the object, or gives 

up trying to find it, or gives a name, sometimes correctly, some- 
times a name closely allied (clock for watch, pencil for pen holder). 
The speech of denomination is therefore a little better conserved 
than that of the spontaneous speech of ideation. 

There remains a last form of speech, the speech of repetition. 

X cannot repeat a sentence and if one is proposed to him, 

he does not repeat it at all ; but he repeats exactly a simple sound, 
as for instance simple vowels; the sound he emits, without being 
always pure (u resembles eu) is nevertheless recognizable. He can 
also repeat a single syllable pa and ba. But he cannot repeat a 
polysyllable word like papa; moreover he can repeat a single 
figure, but repeats two with difficulty and never three; and it is 
all the more surprising since, as we have just seen, thanks to the 
speech of automatic recitation, he can articulate in a series all 
the figures from one to twenty. It is not therefore properly speak- 
ing the articulation of the different figures that presents this diffi- 
culty to him, but rather the representation, the memory of the 
three figures to be repeated. 

One might say that X repeated like an imbecile. There is 

here certainly a most important point to notice. X resembles 

really very many of our imbeciles who speak a little, can repeat 
a figure or two, but never three. 

Word comprehension. There are, it seems, two forms to dis- 
tinguish in verbal audition. The first could be called the verbal 
comprehension of ideation. One speaks to a person and this per- 
son, thanks to the words which he hears, understands the thought. 

With X this form is conserved, but it is deeply affected. He 

understands certain sentences; as for others he slightly misunder- 
stands them. Thus we say, "Carry an object to the nearby 
table," and he understands, "next room;" he opens the door, 
crosses a corridor and with much seriousness carries the object 
into another room. He executes very well certain orders as "Open 
the door." But at our command he cannot point to his nose. 



APHASIA VS. POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 



191 



mouth or ears. He seems to understand that it is a question of 
his face. But his hand wanders over his features with indecision. 
On the other hand he has better verbal comprehension of objects. 
We have just seen that he cannot find his ear when it is asked of 
him; but if we touch his ear, and ask him, "Is it a pen holder? 
a horse? a dog?" he repKes everytime with great deliberation and 
as if after long rejflection, "No, not chat." And when one pro- 
nounces the word ear, his eyes brighten, and he is overjoyed to 
say to us with many gestures, "That's it." Under certain cir- 
cumstances in order to find the name of an object, we have seen 
him resort to a union of two processes, which we have called the 
speech of automatic recitation and the verbal comprehension of 
objects. One writes before him the number 12 and asks him what 
it is. He counts 1, 2, 3, etc., until he reaches the number 12 
(automatic recitation) and there he stops, compares the word 12 
to the symbol he has under his eyes, (verbal comprehension of 
objects); he finds an agreement between the word and the figure, 
and affirms energetically "12," putting his finger on the number. 

As to writing, he possesses only the writing of automatic repeti- 
tion, he writes his name ; he has not spontaneous writing of ideation, 
copying, or dictation. Reading does not exist; it is lost. 

Let us carefully note that in the preceding descriptions we have 
paid no attention to the inner language of our subject nor to the 
state of his images. We have voluntarily set aside these difficult 
and perhaps artificial questions subject to innumerable interpre- 
tations. Let as limit ourselves to making the most of the objec- 
tive symptoms which we have noted. We can arrange them in 
a particular order which corresponds to the degree of their de- 
creasing conservation, the first of the list being the best preserved. 



Speech of automatic 




Writing of automatic 


recitation 




repetition. (Signa- 
ture) 


Speech of the denomi- 


Comprehension of de- 




nation of objects 


nomination 




Speech of ideation 


Comprehension of 
ideation 




Speech of repetition 







There exists then a very clear order in the appearing of these 
symptoms, and this order seems to be the same for speech, com- 



192 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

prehension, and writing. Thus the speech of ideation is more 
difficult, more unstable than the speech of recitation; and the 
speech of repetition is the most unstable of all. This instability- 
seems to be a fact of observation which we must accept without 
trying to explain it by any theories. If further investigations 
confirm our classification this then is the hypothesis which can 
be put forth. 

The production of aphasia would then be dependent upon two 
principal factors; the seat of the lesion, and the greater or less 
degree of integrity of the nervous organ affected. It is the seat 
of the lesion which determines the form of the aphasia, rendering 
it motor or sensorial, or explains the complexity of the form of 
the aphasia, which may be partial or total. This form once 
determined, it remains to determine the degree of the aphasia; 
and it is here that the distinction of degrees which we have just 
indicated comes in; there is, for the three species of language, a 
hierarchy of different degrees; the more complex are lost first; 
the spontaneous speech of ideation for example would be lost 
very much before the speech of automatic recitation. The speech 
of suspended repetition also long before the speech of automatic 
recitation. 

But if observation confirms this hypothesis, it is probable that 
curious analogies will be found between the state of aphasia and 
the state of speech among imbeciles. Without doubt certain 
forms of aphasia present themselves which have nothing analogous 
to what is found in imbeciles, thus sensorial aphasia appears in 
diverse phenomena, notably in word deafness, in subjects who 
continue to have the power of speech. The malady has produced 
a lesion, which operates in a sense the reverse of psychogenesis, 
because one begins to understand before one begins to speak, 
and no imbecile can exist who, by his own lack of intelligence, 
could present anything analogous to sensorial aphasia; that is to 
say, who would speak without understanding the spoken words. 
It is not by the form, that is to say by the nature of the function 
attacked, that the imbecile resembles the aphasic, but by the 
degree. One function being affected, let us say for instance 
speech, the series of the degrees of alteration which the aphasic 
would present will be a psychogenetic series, whose general grada- 
tion will be found exactly repeated in the imbecile. This at 
least is the hypothesis which we formulate. 



VIII. THE FUNCTION OF LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF 
HUMAN INTELLIGENCE 

Among the physiological definitions of man, one of those most 
often cited consists in considering the use of articulate speech as 
the most characteristic mark of the human. The philosophers 
have started from this point to exalt the beauty of the function 
of language; and it has even seemed that it required nothing less 
than the whole human intelligence to render speech possible. 
Abstract studies that have been written upon language have sus- 
tained this illusion. In reasoning upon this function, they have 
sought to present it as a wonder of reflexion and elaboration. 
Currently the psychologists have maintained that language results 
from an implicit convention, consisting in the use of words as 
signs, substitutes, symbols of objects and of thoughts. In other 
words, language would suppose an intelligence capable of per- 
ceiving a general relation between things and their verbal signs.^ 
Presented imder this form, the idea which is held to have presided 
at the formation of language seems so complex that one is not 
astonished that animals are incapable of it and consequently are 
deprived of language. 

Other conclusions, obtained by investigations in the clinical 
domain, have lately added their weight to the preceding. We 
allude to the work and theories of Marie and his pupils.^ 

Marie sought, by a series of observations and of autopsies, to 
renew the conception of aphasia. We do not speak of his ideas 
upon the seat of this lesion, but only of his physiological observa- 
tions. He asserts that, "with all aphasics there exists a very 
marked diminution of the intellectual capacity in general," and 
that neurologists have committed a grave error, in declaring in 

* To our minds this is establishing a confusion between the perception 
of a relation and its realization. It suflBces that the relation is realized 
in order that language exist. 

* See L'Annee psychol., vol. XIII, p. 344, an account rendered by Bern- 
heim of recent theories of aphasia. The short original articles of Marie, 
appeared in the Semaine medicale, May 23, 1906 and October 17, 1906. 
Cf. These de Moutier, Aphasie de Broca, Paris, 1908. 

193 



194 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

their definition of aphasia, that "the intelligence is intact." He 
even declares that, for his part, if he had to give a definition of 
aphasia, the fact which above all else he would endeavor to bring 
out would be the diminution of intelligence. He warns us against 
the apparent intelligence, which aphasics may present in conse- 
quence of the fact that they retain the power of mimicry, the 
emotional faculty, and the sentiment of propriety; with great 
reason, he aflarms that the intellectual deficiency of aphasics may 
escape a superficial view, and he demands a methodical examina- 
tion of his patients. 

We shall speak in a moment of this examination, and we shall 
discuss the procedure and the results. But first of all what role 
does Marie assign to the intellectual deficiency of aphasics? Upon 
this important point we regret to assert that his thought remains 
vague. Or, to speak more clearly, we believe that in these two 
articles he has changed his point of view. He reproaches the 
clinicians, who have recognized this deficiency, with considering 
it as an accessory phenomenon, and with being very wrong in 
not taking it into account when constructing a theory about 
aphasia. This criticism would seem to suppose that for Marie 
the deficiency is not a coincidence, but an integral part of the 
aphasia. 

In the first article he writes expressly in regard to sensorial 
aphasia, or aphasia of Wernicke, that if these patients speak 
badly, have jargon aphasia or paraphasia, it is "in consequence of 
intellectual decay;" this decay would account for their so-called 
word deafness and their incapacity to read and write. Note 
carefully that the theory thus sketched is very significant, for it 
applies not only to the aphasia of Wernicke but also to the aphasia 
of Broca, which would only be, according to the same author, a 
sensorial aphasia complicated by anarthria. 

Let us now pass to the second of the articles cited ; there Marie 
seems to have moderated his first thesis, or rather to have com- 
pletely changed it, because replying to Dejerine who called his 
attention to the fact that dements and general paralytics, in spite 
of their intellectual deficiency, do not become aphasics, he does 
not hesitate to object that there may be some dissociation in the 
intelligence, and he admits that the "intellectual deficiency of the 
aphasic is specialized." He says again, that the "gamut of intel- 
lectual decay is singularly varied, as much from the point of view 



LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF INTELLIGENCE 195 

of the quantity as of the quahty," and he adds, what everybody 
will regret, that he has not the possibility of expatiating further 
upon this order of ideas. 

In fact this last concession, that the deficiency of aphasia is 
specialized, seems to destroy what there is of psychological origi- 
nality in the theory of Marie; because if one admits that only that 
part of the intelligence of the aphasic which relates to language is 
affected, one returns more or less implicitly to the ancient theory 
which makes aphasia a disturbance of the function of language. 
Without wishing to insist farther upon this particular point, we 
shall speak upon the question of how it is that Marie seems to 
have afl&rmed in the beginning, as his contradictors have believed 
that he affirmed, that the loss of language is due to a diminution 
of the intelligence. '^ 

The least criticism that can be made of these hypotheses is to 
accuse them of vagueness in not determining the amount of intelli- 
gence necessary for speech. Not only are the conclusions vague 
but still more one finds numerous suppositions that are not demon- 
strated. Marie, for instance, affirms that an aphasic, a cook by 
trade, cannot cook an egg as well as before the appearance of his 
aphasia; in concluding that it is his intellectual weakening which 
explains, in part at least, the loss of speech, one might make 
this unverifiable supposition that the intellectual weakening is 
sufficiently profound to render language impossible. We borrow 
another example still more disputable from the same author; he 
affirms in some experiments, which are by the way of a very 
interesting originality, that one of these aphasics is incapable of 
performing three commissions which are given to him simul- 
taneously, either verbally or by gesture; this aphasic always for- 
gets one or two of the three. We admit that this proves that he 
is weakened from the intellectual point of view, but is such a 
weakening sufficient to explain the loss of language? This is the 
whole question. 

^ The doctrine of P. Marie upon aphasia, says Dejerine, may be summed 
up in the following terms; sensorial aphasia is not a consequence of the 
destruction of the sensorial images of language, because the author does 
not regard the existence of these images as proven, and all the symptoms 
that one encounters among patients are according to him due to a single and 
only cause, the diminution of the intelligence. (Dejerine, Medical Press, 
VII, 1906.) 



196 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

In order to answer this question we think it necessary to make 
a distinction between the quantity of intelUgence necessary for 
the formation of language, and the quantity necessary for the 
conservation of language already acquired. This last case could 
be studied in senile dementia and general paralysis; we limit our- 
selves to that which concerns the formation of language. 

If we have recourse to our measuring scale of intelligence, we 
shall readily see that a normal child of six years easily performs 
three commissions; but even at two years he speaks and under- 
stands; one sees therefore that the intellectual level of the test 
for three commissions is very much higher than the intellectual 
level which suffices for the formation of language ; the superiority 
amounts to four years. It is in this manner that we must study 
dements, whether or not the facts are favorable to the thesis 
which rightly or wrongly has been attributed to Marie. 

One great interest in the study of children and also of imbeciles 
is that we can bring precision into these questions of intellectual 
level, which have always been treated with a vagueness altogether 
amusing. By the examination of a series of idiots and imbeciles 
it is possible to establish, with all the approximation desired, 
what amount of intelligence is necessary for speaking and for 
understanding, or at least, we establish by this method the condi- 
tion of the intellectual faculties among defectives who can not 
talk, and those who use only a few words. These belong to very 
different levels. In this way one can establish upon an experi- 
mental basis a hierarchy of psychical functions which until now 
has never been done. 

The impression which one receives from these new affirmations 
is that the quantity of intelligence necessary for the use of speech 
has been very much exaggerated. Denise, who is at the dawn of 
language, is a low grade imbecile. Below her there are only 
idiots, those who do not speak; they are sensitive only to the 
language of gestures. But what is their intellectual level? We 
doubt if it is greatly superior to that of an intelligent dog ; superior 
: perhaps from certain points of view, inferior from others. The 
idiot of the highest degree is capable of obeying a gesture, and 
even of imitating a little; if one claps the hands before him or 
dances or cries, he is capable of understanding that we wish him 
to imitate these movements, and he is capable also of making a 
crude imitation. This is the highest test of intelligence that we 



LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF INTELLIGENCE 197 

have been able to give them. Let us now pass to low grade imbe- 
ciles of the type of Denise who have the beginnings of articulate 
language; women of this type cannot do their hair, nor prepare 
vegetables; but they can dress themselves, sometimes however, 
putting on their clothes wrong side out. They are capable of 
mechanical work which requires no discernment. We have seen 
an imbecile man of this level who earned 20 sous a day blowing the 
bellows of a forge. Put a pen in their hand they cannot even 
copy a square; they do not understand the request, they cannot 
conceive of copying, or in any case all their attempts at copying 
are absolutely formless. It seems useless to give more details in 
order to bring out the veritable intellectual level necessary for the 
formation of language. It is sufficient for the moment that we 
have summarily fixed this level, and that we have demonstrated 
that with other experiments it can be determined with a very 
great exactness. The essential was, however, to have demon- 
strated that it is determinable. We also wished to show that 
it is a very low intellectual level corresponding to low grade 
imbecility. 



IX. THE EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 

The possibility of placing in an ascending series the intelligence 
of different imbeciles, thanks to the method which we have set 
forth, has had the happy result of facilitating the study of the 
development of language among defectives. This is a question 
altogether new which we are simply going to outline. 

Let us note first of all that the lowest grade imbeciles represent 
the beginning of language; at this level there are no sentences 
but only words. The imbecile that we have studied at length, 
Denise, speaks only words. We have encountered two other low 
grade imbeciles in the same condition. Furthermore, it is very 
possible that this is not an absolute rule, and that the function 
of language develops sometimes a little earlier, sometimes a little 
later. In order to know this, it would be necessary to examine 
a great number of subjects.^ 

Let us remark that the words pronounced separately by these 
imbeciles are mostly nouns, at times adjectives, and even verbs. 
Are these grammatical distinctions very important? Or rather 
is not the most important matter to note that these distinctions 
are without interest? The grammatical function of words should, 
we believe, be taken into consideration only when it has a definite 
meaning to those who employ them. But it is very evident that 
when one of our imbeciles employs a single word, that word does 
not perform the function of verb, or of noun but of a whole 
proposition. The adjective bad (mal) used by one of them signi- 
fies "I feel bad" (J'ai mal), and the substantive rnama, means 
"Mama gave me this or that." 

Let us come to a higher level and consider imbeciles who are 
capable of making sentences. Our observations are on an imbe- 
cile of fifty, named Victor. 

Victor is a man of robust aspect, tall, square shouldered, bronzed 

* An attempt has been made by M. Maupate (Annales mSdicopsycholo- 
giques), but the absence of all seriation among his subjects has very much 
reduced the interest of the notes upon his experiments upon which his 
work is based. 

198 



EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 199 

skin full of wrinkles, and the manners of a working man; one 
would say an old sailor; his head is well formed, the features are 
regular, and the expression of his countenance seems to show 
more intelligence than the poor fellow really has. But he is 
awkward in his movements; and even when he remains quiet, 
whether standing or sitting, one recognizes in his attitude some- 
thing—I don't know what— that is peculiar. Since this subject 
has the use of language let us make him talk a little. 

Q. What is your name, my friend? 

A. Victor. 

Q. From what place do you come? 

A. Chdtenay. 

Q. Where is Chdtenay? 

A. Near Sceaux. 

Q. Is there a large city near Chdtenay and Sceaux? 

A. Versailles. 

Q. And Paris? You know Paris. 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. What is Paris? 

A. To go to a sale. (He seems satisfied with his reply.) 

Q. But besides that what is Paris? 

A, To buy there merchandise. 

Q. And where is it? 

A. There. (He indicates any direction.) 

Q. What is your trade? 

A. Tiler. 

Q. You go on the roofs? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. You have fallen? 

A. Yes, monsieur There (He points to his head with earnestness, 

and an air of self-pity, to show where he received a hurt in falling.) 
Q. How much do you make as tiler? 
A. Sixty francs. 
Q. Every day? 
A. Every day! 

Q. (With a tone of correction) Every month? 
A. (Eagerly) Every month! 
Q. What was the profession of your father? 
A. Tiler. 

Q. And your mother, what did she do? 
A. Worked among people. 
Q. Ah? 

A. Washed the dishes — sewed. 
Q. Are your parents living? 
A. (With a shade of sadness) They are both dead long ago. 



200 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. How long ago? 

A. A month ago. 

Q. Why did you not continue to be a tiler? 

A. Not much work all the iron merchants tilers. 

Q. You have a sister? 
A. Yes, sir. 

Q. Your sister is older than you? 
A. Older. 
Q. Or younger? 
A. Younger. 
Q. What does she do? 
A. Seamstress. 

Q. What does her husband do? 
A. Watch merchant at Enghien. 
Q. Have they children? 
A. (Shade of sadness) They are dead. 

Q. Come now, tell me about your sister. Give me details. What does 
she do? 

A. Sews all the time with the sewing machine. 

Q. And then? 

A. Goes to the city to carry the linen. 

Q. And then? 

A. She fixes my shirt socks. 

Q. Tell me something more. 

A Don't know any more. 

Q. Oh! yes, think. 

A. I don't remember anything. 

Q. What did you do this morning? 

A. Brought the soup. 

Q. And after that? 

A. Brought the bread and the soup. 

Q. And after that? 

A. Eat. 

Q. What else have you done? 

A. Brought the drink. 

Q. And then? 

A. Eat. 

Q. What do you know how to do? 

A. (With pride) I can put wine in bottles. 

Q. All alone? 

A. All alone. 

Q. Really. 

A. Never broken a bottle. 

Q. Are there others who can do that? 

A. No, only I can. 

Q. M. Simon (who is present), could he fill bottles? 

A. I can show him. 



EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 201 

All this dialogue goes on without irony, at least on the part of 
Victor; he is attentive, remains several hours sitting beside us, 
and concerns himself only with us; he is very much less distracted 
than Denise who often gets up during the conversation to go to 
the window to see what is passing outside. He has a serious, 
conscientious, convinced and deferential attitude, especially during 
our first sittings. Little by little he familiarizes himself with 
us to the point of forgetting the feeling of conventionality, as 
would a school boy with whom one had the imprudence to joke 
too much. ■ But this manifested itself only in subsequent sittings. 

Determination of level. It is evident from that which precedes 
that it is here a question of a quite low mental level. But this 
is only an impression and we cannot content ourselves with this 
sort of medical subjectivity. These general questions by which 
one very properly commences an examination in order to find out 
a patient's general condition, have no other purpose than to enable 
one to judge of the whole; this is excellent, necessary, and even 
indispensable. If one begins the examination of a subject by a 
precise test, he will not arrive at an idea of the whole; he would 
perform a task as ridiculous as though he studied geography 
with a microscope. No method is good except when one employs 
it at the opportune moment and to the end for which it is designed. 
Our general interrogations have given us the suspicion that, in 
Victor's case, there is a reduction of all the faculties, a global 
reduction. An analysis of detail v/hich would have been out of 
place in the beginning must now intervene in order to bring pre- 
cision into particular points. 

Imbeciles like Victor, of the middle grade, can compare two 
lines and two weights. Victor is clearly of this grade. If the 
two lines are presented to him he understands, after explanation, 
what is asked of him and indicates exactly the longer line. He 
shows the same exactitude for the weights. He does not make 
a mistake, even sounds the box by shaking it near his ear, and 
easily finds the heavier (comparison between two boxes of 3 and 
15 grams). He is consequently in the middle grade of imbecility. 
Can he raise himself to the highest grade of imbecility? 

For this level one must be able to repeat at least three figures, 
execute three commissions at one time, know fairly well the names 
of the pieces of money, the colors, the cards, know his age, the 
number of his fingers, and other analogous things. This is about 



202 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

the stock of ordinary knowledge which a high grade imbecile is 
able to acquire. In spite of his fifty years of existence Victor has 
not yet been able to assimilate these. 

The repetition of figures is never correct; he can never repeat 
three exactly; he is mostly satisfied to repeat one, the last of the 
series. At times he gives two, but transposes them; but three 
figures are above his capacity. It is not willingness however 
that is lacking. He is very attentive during the test, and listens 
to us with his eyes fixed upon us. 

For the three commissions he nearly executes them ; but he does 
not entirely succeed. He is told to give the bouquet to M. Simon, 
to carry the umbrella to M. Binet, then to carry his chair near 
the window. He does the first two and seats himself satisfied. 
"Is that all?" we ask him; he thinks again, gets up and takes the 
chair where he was told. In another experiment he forgot the 
first two commissions and remembered only the last. His exacti- 
tude varies then from time to time ; but it is evident that one could 
not place confidence in him to execute punctually three commis- 
sions; in this regard he would not be utilizable. 

Let us continue the examination of certain useful acquisitions 
of the high grade imbecile and we shall see which are lacking in 
Victor. 

He does not know the number of his fingers. To the question, 
"How many fingers have you," he rephes, 

A. Five (another time he replies three). 
Q. And on the other hand? 
A. Seven. 

This would be simply absurd if he understood the meaning of 
the words ; but he has not the slightest notion, nor does he care in 
the least. As to his age, he has the same indifference in the use 
of words whose sense he does not realize. 

Q. What is your age? 

A. Don't know, monsieur. 

Q. Are you two years old? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. Or, rather, perhaps you are a thousand years old? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

He can recite, without too many mistakes, the figures from 1 
to 10 sometimes skipping a figure; above 10 he makes many omis- 



EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 203 

sions and many transpositions. Here for example is a series he 
once gave, with a perfectly serene gravity; 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 14, 
17, 9, 7, 11, 14, 17, 32, 35, 9, 17, 11, 14, 11, 17, 11,14, 20, 32, 33, 

44, 20, 32, 20, 32, 35, 20, 24, 20, 24, 25, 12 What repetition, 

what perpetual beginning over again done with complete uncon- 
sciousness! Notice also that certain numbers are repeated very 
much oftener than others. 

He cannot make the simplest additions. 

Q. 2 and 1, how many does that make? 

A. 2. 

Q. 5 sous and 1 sou, how many does that make? 

A. 1 sou. 

Not only are the errors so great as to be absurd but when one 
is that ignorant it is absurd to make any reply. This is what we 
have called " no-matter- what-ism" (n'importequisme). 

This tendency shows itself also when pieces of money are given 
to him to name; there is only one with which he is entirely familiar 
and in naming which he never makes a mistake; it is the ten sous 
piece. " That" he says with energy, "to buy a package of tobacco, 
ten sous." When his sister comes to see him on Sundays she 
brings him regularly a ten-sou piece to buy his tobacco. These 
are things that stamp themselves indelibly upon his memory. 
The other pieces receive the most diverse names, and the names 
vary from one moment to another; a 1-franc piece is generally 
called 20 sous; a 2-franc piece is also called 20 sous; a 5-franc 
piece is called 1 franc, or 2 francs or 3 francs. A 20-franc piece 
is called 1 franc or 3 francs; and even the modest sou is called 
sometimes 1 sou, sometimes 2 sous. It is therefore difficult to 
determine the exact knowledge of Victor, because he by no means 
has an exact knowledge. He has a vague knowledge which is 
rendered fantastical by his tendency to say the first word that 
comes to his mind; it is not absolutely the first word for it is the 
name of some piece of money; but whether that name is correct 
or not truly makes very little difference to him. 

To count is for him equally impossible. He seems not to have 
the least notion of numbers although he can recite their names 
fairly well; but to recite them while applying them to objects is 
a very much more difficult operation. We beg him to count his 
fingers; he touches only four and recites 2, 3, 5, 7. He therefore 



204 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

believes he has 7 fingers. We ask him, "How many ears have 
you?" he raphes "two, there and there" (at the same time touch- 
ing them). We rise to make a ridiculous demonstration and we 
say, "No, you have three!" But the suggestibiHty is so great 
that we have no need of demonstration, and he replies at once, 
"Three." 

We ask h'm for 12 pins. He takes a handful out of the box and 
gives them to us. Another request, " Give me 3 pins." He again 
picks up what he can hold between his thumb and forefinger, and 
believes he has fully satisfied our request. It is evident that the 
numbers 3 and 12 do not in the least disquiet him. We spread 5 
pins before him and ask: 

Q. How many pins are there? 

A. 4. 

Q. But no, count them. 

A. 2. 

Q. Begin again, count them. 

A. 3. 

In fact he puts his finger at random upon the pins and does not 
count them. We now have 3 single sous and 2 double, spread 
out on the table. 

Q. Do you know how to count? 

A. A little, not much. 

Q. How many sous are there on the table? 

A. (without counting) 3 sous. 

Q. No, count them. 

He does so, counting the double sous as single sous; further- 
more in one case, he puts his finger between two pieces and 
counts only one sou. 

A. Four sous. 

We must add that no matter what problem we give him he 
always has a reply. 

Q. From 19 apples we take away 6 apples; how many are left? 
A. 7. 

At another time he would say 9 or any other number. It is a 
very curious mental state. On being analyzed, it reveals itself as 
something very complex. In the first place Victor has learned a 



EVOLUTION OP LANGUAGE 205 

certain number of things. He knows a series of figures and can 
recite them, though there are of course many errors in the series. 
What pains have been taken to teach them to him! What an 
amount of lost time! The reader can judge for himself. Oh, the 
beauty of teaching done at random! 

The names of colors are as badly learned as those of pieces of 
money; light green is called white; dark red, blue or yellow; dark 
blue, black; green, red or chocolate; pink, white; brown, white; 
yellow, yellow. Scarcely any denomination is correct. We are 
certain that if we had tried again we should have received an 
entirely different series of names. 

Here is how he names some of the cards. He says that he has 
played cards with his sister; it is difficult to believe. 

Cards shown Replies 

King of Spades Spades Hearts a club 

Ace of Spades The diamond 

Queen of hearts Queen 

Ten of diamonds A heart 

Seven of Spades Spades 

Queen of Clubs A Queen 

Invited to sort the cards according to design and color, he slowly 
succeeds in grouping together the cards of the same color; it is 
even necessary to encourage him, because left to himself he loses 
all idea of direction. It takes him 2 minutes, whereas a normal 
person does the same work, the sorting of 32 cards, with fewer 
errors in 35 seconds. 

After all these failures it is very probable that Victor knows 
neither how to read nor to write. Since he does not even attain 
to the intelligence of a high grade imbecile, it cannot be expected 
that he could do w^hat pertains to the level of a moron. We 
should not persist, for this would be very useless, if this question 
of reading and writing were not the occasion of some instructive 
remarks. We ask him, 

Q. Do you know how to read? 
A. Not much. 

We hand him a newspaper begging him to read something. He 
accepts it, takes on a serious expression, and following the text 
with his finger, recites letters which have no connection with the 
printed characters. It is not even spelhng. He only recites 



206 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

what he remembers of the alphabet, a, b, d, v, r, p, c, q, r, etc. 
So he does not know how to read. This is enough to estabUsh 
the diagnosis of Victor. 

Let us make a resume of our tests. Victor is defective in intelh- 
gence; this is the incontestable result of our examination. Let us 
now be more precise. He is not an idiot, since he understands 
verbal orders. He is not a moron, since he can neither read nor 
write. He is an imbecile. Since he is capable of naming certain 
objects, of comparing two lines and two weights, he is an imbecile 
of the middle grade; on the other hand, not being able to name 
the colors, nor the pieces of money, nor to execute three com- 
missions given him simultaneoulsy he cannot belong to the highest 
grade of imbecility; he stops at the middle grade. 

It remains now, after these preliminaries, to study his language. 

The verbal data upon which we are going to work are notes 
taken at the very moment that he spoke; in these notes we have 
expressed verbatim what we believed he said, without changing 
anything ; in the rare cases when we did not understand one of the 
sentences we have passed it by in silence. 

The process by which one gathers the words of an individual 
should be noted in a linguistic study, because it exercises a certain 
influence upon the language of the person studied. The best 
process would be without doubt to remain listener, and to write 
the words as they are spontaneously spoken. But the imbecile 
is one of those who have no story to tell, and who willingly 
remain silent. Generally Victor asks no questions, nor does he 
take the initiative in a conversation. To induce him to talk one 
must question him; this is what we did. We have therefore 
studied only the language of his replies; and this language is 
always more or less influenced by our questions; the idea always 
and very often the words, even the grammatical forms, were the 
result of our suggestion. These conditions understood, we pre- 
sent our observations upon Victor. 

According to a plan which was suggested to us by M. Meillet, 
professor at the College de France, an individual linguistic study 
should contain vocabulary, phonetics, and grammar. We set 
aside phonetics because Victor presents nothing peculiar in the 
articulation of his words; his articulation is normal, as is also 
the rapidity of his speech. It remains therefore simply to study 
his vocabulary and grammar. 



EVOLXJTION OF LANGUAGE 207 

As to vocabulary, we shall not dwell at length upon this as it 
presents nothing that is especially interesting. Victor employs 
current concrete words, and practically no abstract words. He 
does not misform them like a child or an aphasic ; he does not say 
"dada" for a horse, nor repeat a syllable to form words of an 
infantile language. He does not use to excess words like "thing" 
(machin), he uses no circumlocution, and does not make him- 
self conspicuous by the impropriety of terms, that is to say by 
a development of language that is out of keeping with his intel- 
lectual level. We have rather the impression that his vocabulary 
is extensive; in a catalog of hardware he names correctly a host of 
household utensils. We are of the opinion — though this is only 
a hypothesis — that his vocabulary is superior to his grammar. 
We understand by this, that if his vocabulary represents the 
linguistic development of a child of a certain number of years, 
his grammar would correspond to that of a younger child. Note 
also that he invents no neologisms. 

His grammar is more interesting because it bears more strongly 
the mark of his intellectual deficiency. In the first place let us 
note that he speaks little; his sentences are short, he willingly 
abridges or suppresses many words, as though the spoken lan- 
guage were repugnant to him. More often to very many ques- 
tions he contents himself by replying, "Yes, sir," "No, sir;" his 
favorite reply is the very prudent expression, "Not much" (pas 
beaucoup). It has even seemed to us that Victor has less rehsh 
for speech than he has verbal capacity, and that often he could 
speak at greater length than he does; because, called upon to 
express the same idea under different circumstances, he expresses 
it sometimes in two words, sometimes in a more extended sen- 
tence where the same two words appear with other words. 

We shall study this more in detail. 

Length and nature of the sentences. His sentences are always 
short, as we have said. They have 3 words, or 5 or at times 7, 
The maximum that we have observed is 9 words in the following 
sentence, "The school master keeps you in" (Le mattre d'^cole il 
vous fout en retenue). The proposition is simple, there are no 
subordinate clauses. In order to explain a comphcated action 
which he has seen performed before him, Victor proceeds by little 
sentences; he will say, for example, "He took some pins — and 
then he has " Even when he reproduces something told him, 



208 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

he returns to his system of Uttle propositions, detached one from 
the other, or simply attached by "and then." One day we told 
him the story of a little girl who, during the absence of her mother, 
let her racquet fall in the well and was drowned in attempting 
to regain her plaything. He reproduced the story in the fol- 
lowing manner, "The woman is away to do errands the 

girl played with her racquet the racquet fell in the well the 

little girl also goes to get it." 

Persons. He employs all the persons of the verb, and also all 
the personal pronouns. Speaking of himself he says, I. For 
example, one is interesting him in drawing and asks him to draw 
a dog; he replies, "/ don't know how to draw dogs." He says 
thou. Speaking to one of us, who had just been tormenting him 
by all sorts of tests, he assumed this familiar manner in addressing 
us, " Toi, tu es ficelle." He says he or she; speaking of his sister, he 
says, "She washes, she darns," but more willingly, "a darns the 
socks;" sometimes even there is entire suppression of the pronoun, 
"does errands, sews on the machine," for ''she does errands" etc. 
You figures in this sentence. "You want to make me angry" 
(Vous voulez me monter le cou). Often he uses the pronoun one, 
which belongs to the Parisian idiom, for example, "One is bored" 
{on s'ennuie). Lastly he has a tendency to leave the pronoun 
I understood and even the auxiliary; notice the following sen- 
tence. We ask him, "What have you done this morning?" A. 
Brought the soup. Q. And then afterwards what else have you 
done? A. Been to get bread. He suppresses in these cases, I 
have brought, I have been, etc. Also here, boasting of his skill in 
bottling wine, he says, "Never broken any bottles, I, monsieur;" 
instead of "7 have never," etc. 

Tenses. The verb is used in either the present or the past ; we 
find some examples of the perfect. Thus having perceived one 
of us pretending to take pins out of the bowl on the sly, Victor 
denounces him by saying, "He has taken some pins." Another 
time, reproducing a story he said, "The coachman has crushed a 
man." We could even cite some examples of the imperfect of 
the indicative, but only in cases where it had been suggested by 
a question in the imperfect. Q. What did your sister do? A. 
She worked. We have never encountered the future. The only 
way in which he ever speaks of an event in the future is by putting 
it in the present, "My sister comes tomorrow, Sunday." 



EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 209 

Articles. Definite and indefinite articles are employed cor- 
rectly; only he often leaves them understood, "Policeman has 
arrested a man," for "the policeman, etc." 

Agreement. The agreement of a noun with its adjective is 
made correctly. "He is nice, my chief" {II est gentil, mon chef). 

To be definite, we do not find it necessary in Victor's case to 
make any special remark upon vocabulary or phonetics. The only 
pecuUarity worthy of note concerns the assemblage of words. 
There is nothing incorrect in that assemblage, but it tends toward 
conciseness and simplicity by the reduction of the words in a 
sentence and by the frequent suppression of words, usually those 
that commence the sentence, and lastly by never employing 
subordinate propositions, which is a characteristic to be noted; 
and this seems to prove that it is more difficult to form these 
propositions mentally, than to conjugate the verbs or to correctly 
employ the articles and pronouns or to make the adjectives agree 
with the substantives. 

Briefly, the characteristic feature of this syntax seems to us 
to be atrophy. It is in harmony with the mental state of this 
imbecile, which is especially a state of poverty.^ 

^ There is a point which we have not treated in the text, from lack 
of sufficient data; it is in relation to a very interesting question about 
which we have only our suspicions. It has been seen that we can give to 
each defective the age of a normal child, for example we can say of a cer- 
tain imbecile of thirty that he has the development of a child of five. This 
comparison is never altogether correct in that which concerns language. 
The defective appears to us to have a language development superior to 
the normal. Here is a curious proof. One of us charged one of our pupils, 
Mile. Hoffman, to study the association of ideas with school children. 
It turned out that children of seven years scarcely found as words to 
associate any but those of the same sound, of the type of these ; the word 
given is chateau (hat) the child repeats chapeau or says peau (skin) or chat 

(cat), etc On the contrary, middle grade imbeciles of the 

type of Victor, who is certainly not at the level of seven years, can find 
associations of other words, by relation of significance; to chapeau they 
reply for instance by the word tSte (head). It is evident that from the 
point of view of verbal ideation, this is a higher level. We note this fact 
in passing, counting upon returning to it later after having studied it more 
deeply. 



X. THE RELATION BETWEEN THOUGHT AND 
LANGUAGE 

There is no problem more discussed than this. It is only 
candidates for the bachelor's degree who are able to discuss the 
matter with ease. Those who have reflected a little are not slow 
in finding that the problem is very complex. But there is some 
chance of solving it, if, instead of taking it in its entirety, we 
divide it into parts. 

Experiments upon the mechanism of thought, undertaken and 
published by one of us five or six years ago^ ° which have been taken 
up and developed of late years in Germany, especially by Kulpe 
and his pupils," have shown, as a first point, the necessity of mak- 
ing a distinction between the thought and the image; to think can 
not be reduced simply to recalling an image, because one must also 
comprehend the image, that is to say one must realize what it 
is meant to represent as though it were a picture. The proof 
of this is to be found in experimental facts which are particularly 
striking. When with minute care one questions a person upon 
what he has just thought and upon what he has just imaged, 
one notices that from his description there is a disagreement, 
almost a contradiction, between the thought and the image; it 
happens, in fact, that one thinks one thing and represents to one- 
self another. More often, and one might even say always, the 
thought is richer than the images; one pictures to oneself a part 
while one thinks the whole. Example: one has the idea of an 
excursion planned for the morrow, but one does not represent to 
oneself either the excursion or "tomorrow;" one visualizes only 
the surroundings, for instance the mountainous district that one 
is going to visit. William James held these ideas; but he held 
them theoretically; the best deduced of these reasonings, and 
even his too theoretic examples, have not the eloquence of the 

'" See I'Stude expSrimentale de V intelligence, by Binet, Paris, Schleicher 
Bros. 

1' See Revue gen&rale sur I' intelligence, by Larguier des Bancels, I'Ann^e 
psychologique, XIII, p. 476. 

210 



THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 211 

introspections gathered from persons who have no theory and 
who do not reason. It results from all this, that the thought and 
the image are two and that there can exist a thought without an 
image. 

In what then does thought consist? If it is something other 
than the total of our representations, of what elements is it com- 
posed? Certain critics of our earlier work have objected to the 
idea that a thought can exist without sensorial elements; they 
have suggested that what is lacking in the image, which is always 
individual, narrow and paltry, to enable it to keep pace with the 
unfolding of the thought, can be supplied by the word. The 
thought would thus be at the same time image and inner language, 
a combination of both, and what is not image would be speech, and 
what is not speech would be image. Let us remark before going 
farther that this explanation is not entirely satisfactory because 
one can object at once that language is but a substitute and has 
only the value of a symbol, a factitious value. A word in reality 
signifies nothing in itself, it is less expressive than an image, it is 
only an inert brute element, like the noise of the wind or the 
sound of a hammer, and consequently has more need than the 
image of being completed by some other thing which represents 
its signification. On the whole the debate comes back to this; 
to make it clear let us represent a thought by pieces of money; 
the thought corresponds, let us say, to 100 francs. But the image 
is not worth 100 francs, it is worth only 20 or 30 sous; but the 
word is not money at all, it is only a substitute for money; the 
word is like commercial paper, a bank note, which is the sign of a 
gold reserve. But where is this reserve? In what does it consist? 

If we attack this problem by the way of experimentation, this 
is exactly the question to which it is necessary to reply; like the 
image the word corresponds only to a fragment of the thought; 
to translate the thought in its entirety into words would require 
a long discourse. Thus one asks a person if she has read a cer- 
tain book, and she rephes, '^No." This negation, to which she 
limits herself, does not correspond to her complex thought, because 
that no is a general negation, consequently very vague; while the 
person makes a negation of an extraordinary precision, specialized 
to a certain question and regarding a certain book. Thus, evi- 
dently, the thought surpasses the word. Let us suppose if the 
thought surpasses the word spoken, it is possible that it does not 



212 THE INTELLIGENCE OP THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

surpass the word thought ; it is possible that our interlocutor limits 
herself to pronouncing this little word no, but has an inner lan- 
guage very much richer. One can imagine that she pronounced 
mentally or heard mentally the entire sentence, "No, I have not 
read the book about which you speak;" and if this supposition 
seems too opposed to the personal feeling which we have of not 
making such a use of the inner language when the thing is not 
worth the trouble, one would still say that the above sentence 
was repeated in a shortened form, murmured, whispered, or in a 
word that it might have been in our consciousness like a large 
panorama which one takes in with a glance of the eye rapid as 
the lightning. Is this supposition correct? 

This is a difficult question to answer when we take for subjects 
those whose inner language is already well developed. These 
persons may protest as much as they like, affirm that they do not 
represent to themselves in any possible manner entire sentences 
which would be necessary for an adequate expression of their 
thought, but the fact still remains doubtful ; because being capable 
of this verbal development one may suppose that they are not 
conscious of it, that they have performed the operation uncon- 
sciously. All this doubt is cleared away by the examination of 
imbeciles and also of aphasics. 

We have already recounted that Denise one day had a ring on 
her finger, which she turned and re-turned with satisfaction. 
We asked her, "Who gave you that pretty ring?" Without 
hesitation she replied, "Mama." Let us weigh this word. Let 
us note that in order for the thought contained in this reply to 
be completely developed in language, it would be necessary that 
Denise had replied to us or had simply thought to herself the fol- 
lowing sentence, "It was mama who gave me this ring." But 
she cannot articulate even mentally this sentence, which is very 
evident, since her vocabulary is reduced to five or six words and 
her mental level does not permit her to make sentences. We 
are therefore very certain that, in this case, her thought has no 
corresponding series of necessary words; it is indeed a thought 
without sufficient words and consequently there is in her a thought 
without words. 

We find analogous examples furnished by aphasics. The watch- 
maker, observations of whom we have previously reported, when 
we suggest to him a complicated act like counting aloud 20 sous 



THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 213 

in 1-sou pieces, remains a moment reflecting upon the money- 
spread out before him upon the table and then says to us with 
profound conviction, emphasizing each word, "Qa, nonl" ("That, 
no") which signifies: "I feel myself incapable of doing what you 
ask." This last sentence our aphasic evidently could not pro- 
nounce, since his language also is reduced to a few words, and 
since he can no longer construct sentences. But the argument 
furnished by this observation is perhaps less convincing than that 
which is furnished by our imbecile; one can always suppose than an 
aphasic who has previously spoken has retained a better inner lan- 
guage than his actual articulated language, and that what he does 
not say with his phonetic organs he can say to himself mentally. 

Let us therefore return to our imbecile; with her we are at least 
certain that there exists no interior language sufficiently compli- 
cated to give place to sentences. Let us cite a second observa- 
tion of her. She is very modest, almost laughably so, and we 
apologize for presuming upon it; but a psychologist has the right 
to take his material wherever he finds it. Often during our 
conference she has interrupted her bursts of laughter by taking 
on a serious air and coming close to us to say under her breath, 
"pipi!" which signified in a sentence, "I wish to pipi; conduct 
me to the toilet or else let me go alone." But here we hold 
the irrefutable proof, as we believe, that language is not coex- 
tensive with thought. It is absolutely certain that Denise is not 
able to conceive mentally of this sentence nor of any other 
sentence as slightly complex as one can imagine but capable of 
expressing the same thought. The proof which comes from this 
observation is excellent, very much superior to that furnished by 
the word "Mama." In replying this word Denise has heard 
and understood the sentence by which we asked the question, 
and if she is incapable of forming a sentence herself, one might 
suppose as a last resource that she had retained our sentence 
which she heard, and that it was the memory of this sentence 
which constituted the verbal part of her thought. Here the objec- 
tion can find no place, because Denise heard no sentence; she is 
not replying, she said the word pipi spontaneously, which thus 
finds itself in a place to solve one of the highest problems of the 
psychology of thought. 

Very many other analogous observations might be cited. Among 
our low grade imbeciles there is a young man of twenty-five, with 



214 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

regular features, who also understands complex sentences but has 
a vocabulary reduced to some ten words. One day when we 
wished him to write, he refused to take the pen, and touching his 
right hand with his left hand, repeated several times in a voice 
expressive of pain the word, "Bad! Bad! Bad!" Evidently he 
wished to say, as all his gestures of refusal and of suffering clearly 
indicated, that his right hand hurt him and that it was this which 
prevented him from taking the pen. This makes still another 
case where one could not make a hypothesis of the existence of 
inner language which would be richer than the word effectively 
pronounced. 

Still another objection. It will be said to us, 'SYour reasoning 
contains an error; it consists in regarding turn by turn the image 
and the word, apropos of different examples. You commence by 
remarking, apropos of the image, it does not represent all the 
thought. But it will be further said it remains possible that, if 
words and image are insufficient taken separately, they suffice 
when they are taken together, and the lack in the image is sup- 
plied by the word and vice versa. It remains possible to continue 
the objection that if Denise does not find in her inner language, 
evidently very rudimentary, anything to think with, she manages 
to think by images and nothing prevents us from supposing that 
an imbecile visualizes very much more than a normal person. 

Evidently this is possible; it is probable that we shall never 
know to what point this is true because of the impossibility there 
will always be of demanding introspection of an imbecile of the 
grade of Denise. But our opinion is that images scarcely serve 
to do more than to represent material objects, the things per- 
ceptible to the senses; acts picture themselves imperfectly to the 
eye of the mind ; still more is this true for the conditions, the pro- 
jects, the relations of time and space, in a word, for all kinds of 
associations. The " I wish to pipi" or the "I cannot write because 
my finger is bad," cannot be expressed in images; they are thoughts 
of relations which can only express themselves in words; and if 
the words do not suffice, as in the present case, it is not the image 
which supplements their absence.^^ 

'2 Since we are here treating a question of general psychology, we seize 
the opportunity to add that one of us (Binet), in experiments still unpub- 
lished, has succeeded in creating among adults a state where the inner 
language is suspended, and where the subject can still think, but rudi- 
mentarily. This artificial state, difficult enough to obtain and especially 



THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 215 

All this comes back then to the conclusion that the thought is 
distinct both from the image and from the word, that it is quite 
another thing, that it constitutes a different element. But in what 
do^s this element consist? We suppose that it has the nature of 
feeling. This would be an intellectual feeling, consequently very 
vague in its nature but one whose presence and especially whose 
effects we perceive; and it is indeed by its effects that it is revealed 
to us, because the thought is not at all a state; it is an action, not 
a gesture; one sees the consequence of the gesture very much 
more than the gesture itself. American psychologists have under- 
stood this when they established their antithesis between the 
psychology of structure and the psychology of function; the first 
is especially descriptive, it recounts the state of that which is; 
the second has especially the point of view of the action ; it places 
the accent upon that which serves, upon that which is useful, 
upon that which is accomplished. It is the confused and often 
emotional perception of that which prepares and accomplishes 
itself in us, which constitutes the thought. This vague sentiment 
becomes more precise when it produces images, words and acts; 
the representations, the inner language, and the acts, are the con- 
scious forms of the thought; they are like the light, they render 
the thought visible to us; they reveal to us the detail as the 
touches of color placed upon the canvas reveal to us the gestures 
of an artist whom we watch at work while standing behind him. 
But they come only after the thought, they are its result; before 
imagining the thought, before speaking it, it is comprehended, 
it is performed. It is this feeling that dictates the words, and 
suggests the images; and in their turn, images and words react 
upon the feeling, amplify it, render it precise or modify it by a 
reciprocal work where the cause becomes the effect, and the effect 
becomes cause. 

to prolong, is produced by a constant exercise of whistling or sustaining a 
sound, or of continually repeating the same word. If, to a person who 
conscientiously applies himself to this work of phonation, one puts a 
question in abstract terms, which requires of him some reflection, judg- 
ment, an act of approbation or of disapprobation, the person may arrive at 
judging with exactitude and of having the sentiment of approval or dis- 
approval, although no single word of the inner language is at his service. 
Unfortunately these experiments cannot often be repeated, because after 
several attempts the subject succeeds in adapting himself, and he returns 
to his inner language, even while his mouth whistles or pronounces words; 
it is especially in the initial period that the experiment is profitable. 



216 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

We think it very probable that this initial intellectual feeling, 
which precedes images and words and from which the images and 
words seem to come like a natural emanation, plays an important 
role in the realization which we have of our thought. In a word 
it gives us a foretaste of our thought, it permits us to perceive it 
before it is defined. 

It is probably for this reason that our thought seems to belong 
to us, and that our images and our words are attributed to our 
personality and not judged as elements that have come from 
without, which would be strangers to us. There are very many 
mental states in which our sensorial and verbal representations 
are despoiled of this particular virtue of incorporating themselves 
with our person; indeed in some idees fixes, some obsessions, the 
subject feels himself taken possession of by something which is 
other than himself; and it is probable that a good part of the 
externalization of the hallucinations depend upon this character. 
There is room here to investigate whether certain psychic states 
in alienation could not be explained by a loss of this intellectual 
feeling which prepares the representative phase of the thought.^' 

In any case, we believe we have proved beyond doubt by our 
precise observations that there is a thought without images, that 
there is a thought without words, and that the thought is formed 
by means of an intellectual feeling. These are facts altogether 
simple, elementary, demonstrable, which will serve later as founda- 
tions for new experiments and theories upon thought. 

Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 

" It goes without saying that our thesis is contradictory to that of M. 
Janet who has supposed that the attributing of one of our states to our per- 
sonality is made by means of what he calls '^ a personal perception;" that is 
to say, if we understand him rightly, a judgment of attribution which is 
essentially intellectual in nature. Already a penetrating critic, M. Maigre, 
had remarked that this personal perception is an operation of which we 
have absolutely no consciousness; it is therefore an hypothesis which one 
must present with a certain discretion and not as a fact of observation. 
If not M. Janet, at least his pupils have too often spoken of the personal 
perception as though it were a fact. We prefer to confide the same role to 
another process, the intellectual feeling, whose existence at least is not 
contestable after all the observations and experiments which we have 
reported, and it seems to us more natural to suppose that this fundamental 
r61e of incorporation of a state into the personality is held by a sentiment, 
than to cause the intervention of an act of judgment. At least the 
opinion of M. Janet will be interesting to have. 



PART III 

Feeble-Mindedness and Dementia 



I. THE INTELLECTUAL WEAKENING IN GENERAL 
PARALYSIS 

1. Criticism of current definitions of dementia. Does 
there exist a clear and precise conception of dementia? Certainly 
not. The best definition given until very recently is the following : 
dementia consists in a definite, progressive weakening of the intel- 
lectual faculties following a state of normal intelligence. Let us note 
that this definition contains two distinct elements, the one evolu- 
tional, the other static. Let us take the evolutional character; 
this is doubtless very important for diagnosis, since from the time 
of Esquirol it has distinguished dementia from idiocy and similar 
states ; but this is only a historical character, from which one could 
not draw any idea of the real import of the dementia at the 
moment of observation. The second element of the definition, 
the intellectual weakening, is still more unsatisfactory because it 
offers nothing that is really characteristic if we adhere to so 
vague a formula. What is this intellectual weakening of which 
we speak? In what does it consist? In what particular does it 
differ from the state of the intellectual faculties found among so 
many of the insane who are not dements? Intellectual weaken- 
ing is almost the rule among the insane. Let us take melan- 
cholies; it is a very commonplace observation that these patients 
are less intelHgent and, as it were, weakened in intelKgence dur- 
ing their affliction, as compared with their state when cured. 
As to alcoholics, Kraepelin speaks repeatedly of their weakening 
intellectually. Chronic delirium cases, according to some alienists, 
present an attendant state of mental debility though this is per- 
haps questionable. Let us set these cases aside along with cer- 
tain degenerates; it seems that all other insane cases without ex- 
ception have a weakened intelhgence. Certain ones are perhaps 
so only temporarily, and constitute what was once called acute 
curable dementia; but in any case, during the period of the 
existence of the disease, this weakened condition is evident, often 
demonstrable and even measurable. The distinctive criterion 

219 



220 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

which one seeks in this succession of ideas has therefore not yet 
been found. 

If no clear conception of dementia exists in the writings of the 
older alienists, may we not at least find it among moderns, who 
for several years past have prided themselves on employing in 
psychiatry the language of psychology? Not among them either. 
For to say as some do, that paralytic dementia is a lack of mental 
synthesis is to be satisfied with words in order to follow the fashion, 
for this term mental synthesis is used to-day, rightly or wrongly, 
apropos of everything, and consequently does not apply any more 
exactly to dements than to other insane patients. To see in para- 
lytic dementia an incoherence of the association of ideas, as Mas- 
selon has lately proposed (see Intellectual Weakening, VAnnee 
Psychologique, XIII, p. 260) is to attempt a psychological expla- 
nation which, though more precise than the preceding, is only 
the more criticisable, because the ideational phenomenon of in- 
coherence is to be found among many other mental patients. 
Since it is very much less accentuated among general paralytics 
than among many maniacal, hallucinational, and confusional states, 
it cannot therefore characterize dementia. The great, the serious 
fault of these so called psychological definitions is that they are so 
commonplace; far from being appHcable to dementia alone they 
would answer equally well for nearly all forms of insanity. 

Whence does it come then that, notwithstanding the inade- 
quacy of this theory, practitioners have the merited reputation of 
making an early diagnosis of general paralysis with the greatest 
accuracy? It is, first, because they make use of signs, especially 
of certain physical signs which ordinarily accompany dementia. 
For instance, if an individual has a pupillary inequality, especially 
if he has difficulty of speech, and if to this difficulty be added the 
poorly defined symptom, intellectual weakening, then the diagnos- 
tician hesitates no longer; it is paralytic dementia; the practitioner 
leaves to the psychologist the delicate and unnecessary work of 
analyzing the intellectual weakening of the dement. In addition to 
the physical signs, and even when these are lacking, the practitioner 
makes use of certain information furnished by the family concern- 
ing the conduct of the patient; this information is characteristic; 
it bears upon facts which are stamped in advance as symptoms of 
dementia. The neglect of his affairs, the lack of care and neatness. 



CRITICISM OF DEFINITIONS OF DEMENTIA 221 

forgetting his address, the impossibihty of performing a com- 
plicated errand, errors in making change, heedless extravagance, 
are the facts which the practitioner recalls under the form of 
striking incidents ; if he finds these or other similar incidents in the 
life of his patient he hesitates no longer, nor does he further scru- 
tinize the mentality of the patient. More than this, persons of the 
highest authority who have written upon the intellectual symp- 
toms of paralytic dementia have done no more than recall such a 
series of incidents while summarily classifying them under the 
heads of disorders of memory, of attention, of will; they believe 
they are writing psychology and characterizing a mental state. 

It is true that this empiricism usually suffices for the needs of 
medical practice. But it does not always suffice. We recall that 
once we were asked to diagnose the case of a woman some fifty 
years of age who had the small head of an imbecile. Her clothing 
was dirty and in disorder, she balanced herself on her chair and 
had spasmodic mumbling. She gave slow, monosyllabic answers 
to our questions and did not seem to understand the greater part 
of them especially the difficult ones; she gave indeed the impres- 
sion of a diminished intelligence, but was she an imbecile or a 
paralytic? She had no pupillary inequality and spoke too little 
to show derangement of speech. The first physician saw in her an 
imbecile; as for us, allowing ourselves to be guided by one of those 
almost indefinable impressions which are so frequent in mental 
pathology, we inclined toward general paralysis. At this moment 
we are well convinced that only by the study of the mentality 
would it be possible to decide, and to recognize dementia one 
must know what it is from the psychological point of view. 

But the most serious objection that one can make against the 
empiricism of practitioners is that if empiricism does suffice to 
make with surety the greater part of the daily diagnosis it does 
not go beyond diagnosis; this is practice but not science, that is 
to say particular not general; and, moreover, practice being thus 
separated from theory remains local, partial, commonplace and 
does not benefit by more extensive studies; this is very much to 
be regretted because there is reason to suppose that the different 
forms of insanity show relations and resemblances among them- 
selves and the analysis of one would greatly illuminate the others. 

It is under the influence of these ideas that we have undertaken 



222 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

our investigations. We have studied the two principal forms of 
dementia, senile and paralytic, especially the latter, endeavoring to 
find the psychological formula which applies to it and to it alone, 
because this is the necessary condition of every demonstration. 
How we went about it will be seen from what follows. It is un- 
necessary to explain our method; the best way is to see it in ac- 
tion. We have seen, examined and submitted to every sort of 
experimentation some forty patients. It is man}'^, even too many; 
we have accumulated so much material only because the idea which 
was to come out of it and permit us to interpret it all was long in 
making itself known and we have been able to see clearly only 
after long groping in the dark. 

We begin by the study of general paralysis, or paralytic 
dementia.^ 

2. The lowering of the intellectual level in paralytic 
DEMENTIA. We are going to show that every dement has an in- 
tellectual level below normal. This statement needs explanation 
because it would seem that we are, as it were, breaking down a 
door which is not locked, and it will be thought useless to demon- 
strate what everybody knows; namely, that dementia carries 
with it an intellectual weakening. But we lay aside this expres- 
sion intellectual weakening, which is vague and equivocal and 
which we shall reserve for criticism farther on. We wish to show 
especially that if our measuring scale of intelhgence were used, 
which is composed of a graded series of slight difficulties to be 
overcome, of little problems to be solved, it would be easy to de- 
termine the point in this series where the dement fails; and as 
each point of the scale corresponds to a level of normal age es- 
tablished as a result of experiments upon normal children, this 
procedure permits the determination of the mental age of a gen- 
eral paralytic, by saying for instance that he is at the level of 
eight years or of five years. We have here a measure whose pre- 

1 The present study is, in a certain measure, complete in itself; but, from 
the point of view of the directing idea and of the method, it is closely con- 
nected with our four preceding studies upon alienation the conclusions 
of which it continues. See in L'Annee Psychologique, XIII, p. 163, 
and following, our three articles on sub-normals; XIV, p. 1, our article 
already cited upon the Development of the Intelligence among Children; 
XIV, p. 284, the article upon Language and Thought; and finally in the 
present volume, the article upon The Intelligence of Imbeciles. 



LOWERING OF THE INTELLECTUAL LEVEL 223 

cision is interesting, and quite preferable to that commonplace 
assertion that a certain patient is very weak mentally and that 
another is not so weak. We have taken the level of intelligence 
of a great number of dements and here is what we have noted. 

Althought the method was organized for children and imbeciles 
only, the great majority of dements lend themselves admirably to 
it for two reasons. In the first place this is because of their con- 
fiding, happy, optimistic character. They seat themselves quietly 
and reply to our questions without asking the why or wherefore 
of the examination even when we abruptly ask them such childish 
questions, as, "How many fingers have you?" At times a slight 
excitement or a touch of delirium troubles our examination, but 
it amounts to very little. Only once one of our patients, a bach- 
elor of some forty years, on hearing our first question replied 
dryly, "Pardon, sir, I should like very much to know why you ask 
me that." Let us recognize this as the reply of one who is annoyed 
rather than of a paralytic. If our paralytic was capable of it, it 
was only because he was at the beginning of his affhction and his 
mental level was twelve years and consequently nearly normal. 
This is truly a case where the exception proves the rule. 

The mental dispositions which render the general paralytic 
suited to an examination of intelligence are not the same as those 
which act upon imbeciles and morons. In a previous study we 
have described the attitude of docility and deference which very 
many defectives show us; their deference is such that they seem to 
obey the most absurd suggestions. General paralytics have a 
different character; if they yield to an examination it is not through 
deference. This social sentiment is no part of their psychology. 
They are particularly satisfied with themselves, without se- 
quence in their ideas, and with a foundation of indifference, and 
this mental state renders then equally as manageable as imbeciles ; 
let us add that irritability is encountered similarly in both. 

Another reason why our general paralytics are excellent subjects 
for experimentation is because their particular form of mental 
trouble can readily be caught by the tests. What we here affirm 
needs explanation. Let us attempt to give the tests to a patient 
suffering from delusions of persecution. First he may resist, 
grow angry, or refuse to speak. Let us suppose him to be tract- 
able. In spite of this his mental state will not be discovered by 



224 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

our tests because, while his delusions prove an absence of judg- 
ment, it is rare that our special tests upon judgment show that 
faculty to be lacking in him. It would seem that his intelligence 
is divided into two parts, the one sane and the other delirious; 
it is only the sane part that the experimenter can put into action 
by the tests. On the contrary, with the paralytic everything is 
affected, the weakening is universal, and he shows himself as 
much at fault for any question of our examination as for the 
circumstances of his life. 

Another remark. Our method permits of measuring the in- 
tellectual level without taking account of accompanying cir- 
cumstances which sometimes produce an illusion in regard to the 
intelligence of a person. Thus, we have examined a patient whose 
difficulties of articulation were so accentuated that we had much 
trouble to understand him. To listen to him one would have 
thought him of very low grade; on measuring his intelligence we 
found that he had a level of nine years. Psychic and physical 
troubles do not always go together although one is certainly in- 
clined to that impression; do we not find emphasized in treatises 
a form of paralysis in which physical troubles are particularly 
marked? That which was evident only in very marked cases no 
longer appears as an exception. 

It might be objected that an extremely precise measurement of 
the mental level of general paralytics is of little value except for 
the moment it is made, since they are constantly on the road to 
dissolution. Consequently this measurement has not the same 
interest as in the case of an imbecile whose level is very much 
more static. But there are a number of problems which remain 
since the discovery of paralysis, which we have not been able to 
solve through lack of method by which we can appreciate the 
degree of dementia; for instance, is paralytic dementia progres- 
sive or does it proceed by sudden drops? Would not the progno- 
sis of its evolution be different if six months of the affliction 
sufficed to reduce an average intelligence to a level of five years 
while in another case two years of illness have not resulted in a 
similar decay? Since Baillarger there has been much discussion 
upon the degree of retrogression, upon its reality, whether it ex- 
tends only to physical troubles and the phenomena of delirium, 
leaving the other functions definitely injured, or if paralytic de- 



MEASURING THE MENTALITY OP A DEMENT 225 

mentia, properly so-called, although attributed by the anatomo- 
pathologists to the destruction of the fibers of Tuczek, is never- 
theless itself subject to retrogression. The intellectual level of the 
same patient carefully taken at different dates would quickly 
enlighten us upon these points. 

In conclusion we shall cite as an example the measurement of 
the level of a woman reduced by dementia to the intelligence of a 
child of five years. 

Beauchamp is a woman of thirty, with delicate features and an 
amiable, smiling expression. She was formerly a teacher. Her 
husband who esteemed and admired her tells us that she had a 
very cultivated mind and a taste for art and literature. Now at 
the end of only six months of illness she shows a lamentable de- 
gree of decay as we shall demonstrate. She talks willingly al- 
though chiefly in monologue. Certain days she continually re- 
peats the same story but her recital is so obscure, so incoherent, so 
weak that we cannot understand it even after many repetitions. 
She talks about a little child, very small, and we conjecture that 
the mother of Beauchamp says to the child, *'0h, how dirty you 
are!" Then the child seems to have thrown something violently 
to the floor, ''That went poum!" The patient mimics the scene 
with energy. Soon after she looks at us and shows us the palm 
of her right hand where there is a little scar which moves her to 
pity. She ends by explaining that the apothecary had been con- 
sulted. And that is all. As soon as the story is ended the patient 
begins again. We have not been able to discover whether that 
little child was Beauchamp herself or not. 

She lent herself willingly to the experiment as far as her intelli- 
gence and power of attention permitted. In reality she could not 
comprehend the simplest tests and the explanation which we gave 
her served practically no purpose at all. Below we give our con- 
versation with a table showing the tests passed. We call atten- 
tion to the fact that the sign + indicates that the test has been 
passably well executed while — is the sign of failure. 



226 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



Measuring Scale of Intelligence. Results Obtained with Beauchamp, 
General Paralytic 



TESTS 


RE- 
PLIES 


TESTS 


BE- 
PLIES 


3 years 

Show nose, eyes, mouth 

Enumerate a picture 

Repeat 2 figures 


+ 

+ 

+ 
+ 

+ 
+ 

+ 
+ 


6 years 
Show right hand, left ear.... 
Repeat sentence of 16 sylla- 
bles 


+ 


Repeat a sentence of 6 sylla- 
bles 


Make aesthetic comparison.. 

Define by use 

Do 3 errands 


- 


Give family name 


_ 


Tell age 


. 


4 years 


Distinguish morning and 
evening 




Give sex 


7 years 
Distinguish lack in figures... 

Give nvunber of fingers 

Copy a written sentence 

Copy a diamond 




Name key, knife, sou 




Repeat 3 figures 


_ 


Compare 2 lines 


-1- 


5 years 
Compare 2 weights 




Repeat five figures 




Copy a square 


Describe a picture 




Repeat a sentence of 10 sylla- 
bles 


Count 13 single sous 

Name 4 pieces of money 

8 years 
Reading with 2 memories . . 
Count 3 single and 3 double 
sous 


- 


Count 4 single sous 

"Game of patience" with two 
pieces 






+ 




Name 4 colors 


+ 




Count from 20 to 






Compare two objects from 
memory 






Write from dictation 


- 



Q. Point to your nose. 

A. It is in the water! (Incomprehensible sentence but she points 
to her nose as she says it.) 

Q. Point to your eyes. 

A. Here they are! (She leaves her chair and comes close to us with 
the intention of showing her eyes.) 

Q. Where is your mouth? 

A. There it is! (She opens her mouth and places her finger there.) 



We see that the first test is passed and proceed to the second 



MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 227 

We place before the patient a picture representing an old man 
and a child drawing a cart. 

Q. Look at this. Do you see? Tell me what we have here? 

A. Oh! I do not know. 

Q. Look at it closely! — 

^. Oh! I don't know 1 do not know. (She seems ready to pout.) 

Q. Oh yes? Tell us what you see? 

A. I see nothing. 

Q. Isn't there a picture? 

A. No, Oh! it is a little old man and then the other (turning 

herself towards us) and then you see 

Q. And besides? 

A. (Putting the picture aside and handing it back to us) I do not know 
who it is. I do not know who it is. 

Q. Well, this one? What do you see in this? (Showing her a picture 
of two unfortunates upon a bench.) 

A. Oh! It is an old man asleep. 

Q. And besides? 

A. That is all — and his wife is beside him. (She pushes the picture 
away as though she did not wish to be bothered. ) Oh ! I do not know her. 

Q. And this one? (We show her a picture that represents a prisoner 
looking out of the window of his cell.) 

A. Oh! I don't know 

Q. But tell me! Look! What do you see? 

A. Who is it? Oh! I don't know who it is. 

Q. But what is he doing, this poor man? 

A. Oh! I don't know. I don't know him. 

As we insist she seems to be irritated, pushes the picture away and 
pouts while replying "I don't know." 

Q. Let's laugh a little. 

She smiles. Her calm has returned and we can continue. 

We consider that she has passed this second test because f6r 
two of the pictures she has enumerated, "It is a little old man 
and then the other." Once even she gave a bit of description, 
"It is an old man asleep." But it must be remarked that it re- 
quired great effort for her to adapt herself to the experiment; it 
was necessary to insist before she could be induced to look at the 
pictures; she even thought that we were asking her to recognize 
the persons in the pictures, a very curious absurdity which a 
normal child would never commit. 

The third test is a repetition of figures. 

Q. Listen now carefully. I am going to explain what we are going to 
do. I am going to say some figures and then you will repeat them. Under- 



228 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

stand! I am going to say a figure then you say it after me. Listen (we 
raise our voice) 4! 

A. 4. 

Q. 2, 9. 

A. 2. Why should I do it? 

Q. 6, 8. 

A. 2, 4, 6, 8. 

Q. 6, 1, 3. 

A. No, I am not that old 1 am thirty years old. (She adds some 

words which we could not catch. It is a confused murmuring.) 

Q. 3, 2, 9. 

A . (She repeats nothing. ) 

Q. 0, 2, 8. 

A. 8, 2, 0. See? 

Q. 1, 3, 9. 

A. 9, 8. 

It is evident that when we give her a single figure she under- 
stands that she must repeat it, but when we give her two or three 
she ceases to understand or loses the directing idea of the experi- 
ment after having had it for a moment. We note that once she 
was able to repeat two figures but never three. 

The following test consists in giving words and sentences to be 
repeated. Our patient is going to act in this as in the other tests. 

After a preliminary explanation we pronounce in a louder voice 
the words to be repeated. 

Q. Papa. 

A. Yes, my papa. 

Q. Shoe, hat. 

A. Yes, my hat. And then 1 have a veil. 

Q. (In a natural voice) But no, that is not it You must repeat 

just what I say without adding any more. Now repeat what I say. (With 
raised voice) Hat! Shoe! 

A. Yes, my hat yes, it is blue it is blue with some etc. 

The patient has not understood. To put her right we had re- 
course to a proceeding which has often proved successful with 
normal children; instead of explaining in abstract terms that one 
must repeat we have her repeat some very simple words, then we 
complicate them progressively; it is a sort of bait. 

Q. Pampam! 
A. Pampam! 
Q. Papa! 
A. Papa! 



MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 229 

Q. Mama! 

A. Mama! 

Q. Dodo! 

A. Dodo! 

Q. Shoes, hat. 

A. Yes, my shoes with mama. 

Q. It is cold! .1 am hungry! 

A. Yes, from that moment (Prattle). 

As it is a question here simply of recording a result we are 
obliged to admit that our patient did not satisfy the requirements 
of test four and that she does not repeat the sentence of six 
syllables. Perhaps she might do so after training but this would 
no longer be within the limits of the test. 



Q. What is your name? 
A. Margaret. 
Q. And your other name? 
A. Beauchamp. 



This reply is completely satisfactory; it is true that this test 
has a social character and that in life one has occasion to say his 
name much oftener than to repeat one or two figures. Our scale 
is adapted to little children and they are often puzzled to re- 
member their family name; they find it easier to repeat two figures. 

To sum up, our dement passes all the tests at three years except 
one; she attains therefore the level of three years, following the 
rule which we have established ;2 but there is in her manner of 
answering the tests something which differentiates her from a 
child. 

Let us pass to the tests of four years. 

Q. Are you a gentleman or a lady? 
A. Indeed, I am a lady. 

The question is unusual, almost impertinent, but it did not in the least 
shock her. 

Q. What is this? (Showing a key.) 

A. It is my key. 

Q. And this? What is this? (Showing a pen-knife.) 

A. Very well, my little It is a little thing for me 

0. What do you call this little thing? 
A. A little knife. 

2 See The Development of the Intelligence of Children, L'Annee Psy- 
chologique, XIV, 1908. (Our Vol. 1, p. 182.) 



230 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. And this? (Showing a sou.) 

A. Ah! that is two sous for me. (Smile.) 

We admit that this test has given satisfactory results. The at- 
titude of the patient is nevertheless very peculiar; in the first 
place she had difficulty in evoking the name of knife ; then she con- 
stantly took an attitude of proprietor or rather of monopolist. 
"It is my key, it is two sous for me." We have never encoun- 
tered anything analogous among normal children. 

Q. Here are two lines. Which is the longer? 

A. Well — there! (She shows the longer without hesitation.) 

All the tests of four years are passed except the repetition of 
three figures. Let us see those of five years. 

Q. Do you see these two boxes? (The boxes are placed before her on 
the table.) Give me the heavier. 
A. I do not know which is heavier. 
Q. No, but find out and give it to me. 
A. (Showing a box.) Well, that one? 
Q. Give me the heavier? 

A. Well, there is none also inside Well, both of them. 

Q. (Both boxes are placed in her hands.) Give me the heavier one. 
A. Here it is (she gives a box), and then this is the other (she gives the 
other box). 
The test is not passed; our dement did not understand the question. 

Copying a square gives rise to many difficulties. A large square 
was drawn before her on a sheet of paper and she was asked to 
make one just like it. A pen was placed in her hands. She 
seemed very willing and said, "Very well, yes, there!" but she had 
not understood because under the square she slowly wrote her full 
name. We were obliged to intervene with a new explanation; 
then she began scribbling in the model; we stopped her and finally 
obtained a reproduction of the square but quite lacking in pro- 
portion. Nevertheless, the lack of skill in her hand which the 
design betrays is far less than her lack of skill in comprehending. 
If we compare her with a normal child of three or four years we 
see at once the difference. The normal child may be far more 
awkward in directing his hand and in drawing the figure, but on 
the contrary he is far more intelligent in comprehending that 
what is required of him is to copy it. Furthermore we find two 
other curious examples of this difference. We attempt to make 



MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 231 

our patient copy a diamond and a written sentence. For the 
diamond she writes below it a Kttle hne in zigzag, which shows 
once more how httle she understands what is desired of her. 
We make her a second model and urge her to copy it; instead of 
copying it she embellishes the model with little scribbHngs in- 
side or with little strokes about the outhne. There is the same 
failure in copying a written sentence. We had written "The 
Little" and we asked Beauchamp to copy these two words, which 
should have been all the easier for her in that she can still write 
a little; but here again she did not understand. Instead of copy- 
ing she read the two words and understood their meaning; im- 
mediately her mind was turned in a direction quite other than 
we had wished. She said, "That is it, the little baby; there, see 
the little dear." 

Q. Write what you see there. 

A. Well, it is very little, because it is four years old It is sweet, it 

is darling. 

Conformable to her ideation, the patient writes after the model, 
"baby of four years;" the writing is tremulous but nevertheless 
legible. This continuation of a commenced sentence seems to be 
dictated by the obsessing memory to which we have already al- 
luded of the little child who went poum! The analysis of these 
three failures in the act of copying is interesting. A normal child 
may fail in the operation of copying, but he understands that it is 
a question of copying; this comprehension is so simple that gener- 
ally when one explains the tests, it is understood; on the con- 
trary our patient can copy very well since she still knows how 
to write a little, but she cannot comprehend what is asked of her. 

Four single sous are spread before her on the table. When we 
ask her to count them, she does so rapidly and declares that there 
are four sous. How did she understand that so easily? We think 
it is because counting sous is a social usage like giving one's 
name, while repeating and copying are operations which have no 
social usage and which one does not frequently perform in life; 
thus our patient understands very well when asked to count, 
while she does not understand when asked to copy. Apropos of 
the act of counting we shall give two other examples which are 
very interesting. We wish to discover whether our dement can 
count 13 single sous; she counts rapidly, but arrives at the number 



232 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

12; this is not a bad error. The following is better. We give her 
3 double sous and 3 single sous and without difficulty she an- 
nounces that that makes 9 sous. Note carefully that this test 
belongs to eight years. If our dement succeeds in this it is, 
first, because counting is a usual act; and, second, it is because 
she profits by previous instruction. 

To finish these tests of five years let us say that our patient does 
not reconstruct the figure in the "game of patience;" she ends by 
uniting the pieces at random. 

She was able to accomplish some of the tests of six years; she 
showed the first time her right hand and left ear and she gave her 
age. But she failed almost constantly in the other tests; most 
of the time it was because she failed to comprehend what was 
desired of her. The ordinary explanation did not penetrate her 
intelligence. In support of this we cite a beautiful example. It 
is a question of definitions. Nothing seems more simple than to 
reply to the following questions, ''What is a fork, a table, a chair, 
etc.," when one knows these objects. But Beauchamp was never 
able to grasp the idea of a definition. Let the reader judge. 

Q. What is a fork? 

A. Oh! I had one. I had beautiful ones. 

Q. Yes, without doubt, but what is a fork? 

A. I had beautiful ones. 

Q. But what is a fork? 

A. Well, it is like that. They are very beautiful. 

Q. But explain to me. What is a fork? 

A. I had one that was beautiful 1 have two of them. 

Q. And a table? What is a table? 

A. Oh! I have a beautiful table. 

Q. A table, what is that? 

A. I have a beautiful table. 

Q. And a chair, what is a chair? 

A. Oh! I have a beautiful chair. 

Q. But what is it? 

A. Oh! they are pretty 1 have large chairs yea, they are pretty, 

very large. 

Q. And a horse? What is that? 

A. (Quickly) Oh 1 have none oh! I have none, certainly not a 

horse. 

Q. But what is it? 

A. Ah! there are plenty, everywhere. 

Q. But what is a horse? 

A. A horse? Ah! I do not know where it is. 



MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 233 

Q. And a mama? 

A. My mama 

Q. What is a mama? 

A. Well, I do not know. 

Q. Yes, but what is it, what is a mama? 

A. Oh well, I have one at home, she is sixty-two years old, mama. 

Q. And in two years, how old will she be? 

A. Well, the poor mother, she will go away. 

Thus in spite of persistent effort, we cannot make ourselves 
understood, notwithstanding that this patient knows very well a 
fork, a table, etc., and we believe could define them if she only 
understood that we are asking for a definition. 

By applying the rules which we have adopted we fix the intellec- 
tual level of Beauchanp at five years; we mean by this not that 
she has exactly the mental state of a child of five years, because 
we have seen how much of a difference separates her from a nor- 
mal child of five; but rather that she fails for one reason or another 
before the same difficulties as a normal child of five years. In 
establishing this level we do not take into account the ways and 
means but simply the results. 



II. THE MINOR PSYCHOLOGICAL SIGNS OF GENERAL 

PARALYSIS 

L A DIRECTING HYPOTHESIS. One who relied solely upon the 
results of our measuring scale would not be able to grasp the 
mental differences which differentiate an imbecile from a general 
paralytic. Shall we conclude that these subjects have the same 
mentality? Evidently not. We must put our readers on their 
guard against this erroneous interpretation of the bearing of our 
measurements. The scale which we use is made up of a series of 
small, intellectual problems, and it is quite possible that two in- 
dividuals may fail in the same problems without for that reason 
having similar mentalities; the practical consequence is that the 
efficacy of their mentality is the same; but the mentalities may be 
different. 

Our scale resembles very much a measuring rod which, instead 
of measuring the height, measures the intelligence; but just as an 
ordinary measuring rod gives no information regarding the nor- 
mality of the physical development and may indicate the same 
number of centimeters for a normal child and for an adult hunch- 
back, so our scale of intelligence gives the actual level of intelli- 
gence without analyzing it and without informing us as to the 
type of mentality. 

The problem which we set for ourselves is therefore still un- 
touched. Thus far we have not succeeded in discovering how the 
state of dementia differs psychologically from the state of im- 
becility. Let us try to go farther. 

A commonplace idea shall serve us as an entering wedge. 

"The dement," it has often been said, "is a rich person who has 

wasted his fortune, while an imbecile is one born poor and who 

remains poor all his life." If we examine this idea closely we see 

at once by a simple statement of the facts that these two types of 

individuals are in an entirely different psychological condition. 

That which is lacking in the imbecile is a certain development of 

the thought; his thought has not evolved; and all that we know, 

234 



TWO HYPOTHESES 235 

all that we have previously learned of the precise nature of the 
evolution of the thought, serves to make us understand the con- 
dition in which it is found. Let us add that within the limits 
where his thought has evolved he acts regularly if not normally. 
On the contrary the general paralytic presents to us a thought 
which has previously evolved and which had even reached the ex- 
treme limits of its evolution. This thought had then up to a 
certain moment been complete, but now it is attacked by a 
particular modification which has made it decrease. 

In exactly what does this decrease consist? It is at this point 
that our hypotheses commence. We beheve that we have the 
choice between at least two explanations. According to the first, 
there would be produced in the paralytic a phenomenon the in- 
verse of evolution. His intelligence would be like a train that 
reversed its engine and ran back over the same line in the oppo- 
site direction from the preceding trip. The general paralytic 
would thus find himself realizing successively by a sort of tumbling 
down the mental state corresponding to ten years, then nine 
years, eight years, seven years and so forth. This hypothesis of 
retrogression has for its one great merit that of clarity; but this is 
probably all that can be said for it, because when one looks closely 
at a general paralytic one sees clearly that his mental state does 
not resemble that of an imbecile, still less that of a child. Thus 
Beauchamp, whom we have already somewhat analysed and whom 
we placed at the level of a child of five years, knows better how to 
read, to write and to count money than a child of five years; and 
on the other hand she has some more serious lacks of compre- 
hension than is encountered even among such young children. 
There are here a host of slight signs which make us decide to 
abandon the hypothesis of retrogression; and we boldly ch:ose 
another which we are going to explain. 

We admit provisionally that our patients remain virtually in 
possession of all their intelligence but that they have difficulty in 
making use of it; the injury would affect the functioning; there 
would be embarrassment, difficulty, slowness and often even im- 
possibility of exercising the existing functions, of applying ac- 
quired knowledge, in a word of making the machine work. Even 
leaving our hypothesis in this very vague form we can already 
predict what its character will be; this difficulty of functioning pre- 
sents in reality an essentially pathological stamp, and conse- 



236 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

quently it would only be by chance, by a wholly exterior resem- 
blance, that the paralytic could be compared to an imbecile and 
especially to a child. Therefore, while the hypothesis of retro- 
gression would lead to the conclusion, certainly unacceptable to 
any one who has associated with general paralytics, that these 
subjects have the mentality of children, the hypothesis of the 
failure of functioning prevents any comparison of this nature; it 
allows us indeed to foresee that children, imbeciles and paralytics 
are alike in their inability to solve the same problems; they are 
stopped by the same obstacles so that we can attribute to them 
the same mental level; but the identity of the results in no way 
implies the identity of mechanisms; the mentalities remain 
distinct. 

Let us try to give a precise meaning to the words difficulty of 
functioning. They are still vague, general, and we prefer to con- 
sider a single one of the phenomena in which this difficulty mani- 
fests itself. This phenomenon is of paramount importance and 
seems to give us the key to the problem. It is the evocation 
of the states of consciousness. We suppose, to state it briefly, 
that paralytics have especially a weakness of evocation. 

2. Analysis of some observed results. We are now about 
to study successively the following phenomena, in which the 
aforesaid weakness of evocation manifests itself, and which there- 
fore constitute from the practical point of view what we shall call 
the minor psychological signs of general paralysis. 

Failure and slowness in the recall of certain memories. 

Errors in naming colors. 

Difficulty in the flow of words. 

Lapsus calami. 

Arithmetical errors. 

Disorder. 

Incomplete perceptions. 

Illusions. 

Inertia of comprehension. 

Incongruous replies. 

Grejfage.^ 

These are only brief and precise laboratory notes. But they 
represent the results of tests and observations which we have 

' For definition of this term see p. 254. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 237 

ourselves made and which others will be able to repeat, verify and 
complete. We must of necessity commence by an understanding 
of the precise facts. Let us analyse each one a little. 

Failures and slowness in the recall of certain mem- 
ories. It is known that many of these patients cannot give their 
address, the number of their street, or the names of their friends. 
In such an instance authors readily attribute the trouble to a 
lack of memory in the patients; in fact proper names and figures 
are among the elements that are the most difficult to evoke; 
when one is fatigued one has difficulty in remembering proper 
names or in speaking a foreign language that he knows only 
slightly; this difficulty of evocation becomes very evident with the 
aged. It is the first break in the memory. Often one retains the 
faculty of voluntarily evoking all memories except that of proper 
names. Those who grow old at the head of a numerous staff 
know something of this. 

We cite as an example a patient named Samse, a woman of 
forty-two years, who follows the occupation of stocking darner. 
She has a level of seven years; she is lively and pleasant and can 
give much exact information about herself and her family, her 
past life and her maladies; but whenever she is asked to give a 
precise figure she shows herself incapable. As to the time of her 
marriage : 

Q. At what age were you married? 

A. Oh! quite a while ago. 

As to her belongings. 

Q. Were you rich? 

A. Oh well, I had a little money of course; it would be unfortunate to 
work and not have a sou. Do you think I would spend everything? No 
indeed, my money is invested. 

Q. How much have you? 

A. Oh! a good deal. 

Q. But how much? 

^. Oh! well, I don't remember, but it was quite a little. 

We could cite many other examples. 

Naming of colors. If often happens that a general paralytic 
cannot name the colors exactly. He recognizes the colors very 
well and also knows their names, but he cannot recall a name at 
will and he gives another in its place. We have found cases some- 
what similar among imbeciles, but the difference is that the im- 
becile either does not know or partially knows, while the para- 



238 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

lytic knows but cannot remember when it is necessary. For 
example Colon, a house painter who has the level of ten years, 
should because of his profession know the colors very well; he is 
of an intellectual level that should be able to name them since a 
normal child of eight years names them. 

Colon has nevertheless much difficulty. He says, 

For red, "That is bright red." 

For yellow, "That is pale yellow." 

For blue, "That is dark green it is dark blue." 

For green, "That is light dark light yellow." 

He therefore failed on the blue and for the green gave a curious 
reply; perhaps by light he meant green. In any case we ask him 
to repeat and he says, "red, light yellow, bue (instead of blue), 
pale green" which is nearly correct. Thus he knows but cannot 
at once show his knowledge. This inability is truly the most 
annoying thing that could happen to a candidate during an 
examination. 

Difficulty in pronouncing words rapidly. It is the same 
experiment but with a variation which adds to the difficulty; one 
must not be satisfied with simply naming the colors ; they must be 
named quickly, very quickly, as quickly as possible. Thus the 
varied functional insufficiencies manifest themselves. 

Bernard is a woman forty-five years old, who has the level of 
seven years. We show her a sheet of white paper upon which are 
pasted four papers, red, yellow, blue, green. At our invitation 
she names them correctly. Then: 

Q. Couldn't you go a little faster? 

A. (Trying to go fast.) Red, green (correcting herself) no, yellow 

green, yellow, green. 

That took seven seconds, a very long time, because for a normal 
adult one and a half seconds suffice. 

Q. Try again. 

A. Red, yellow, blue, yellow no, blue. 

Thus when she repeats the operation with the idea of going 
quickly she fails. She has forgotten the name of green. 

(Showing her the green paper.) What is that color? 

A. (After having put her finger upon the paper and having thought 

a long time) Like chicken eggs no duck eggs (Correct, because 

duck eggs are a tint of green). 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 239 

Q. Yes, but what do you call it? 

A. (After a long meditation which lasts five seconds) It is green. 

Q. Name them now as quickly as possible. 

A. Red, yellow, blue, green. 

Q. Still quicker. 

A. No. 

Q. Oh yes. 

A. Red, yellow, blue (slight bewilderment) green. (Time, five seconds.) 

Q. As quickly as possible. 

A. Red, yellow, blue and that, green. 

Q. Quicker still. 
A. No, it isn't fair. 

Note that the considerable time of five seconds to name four 
colors does not contain the time of reaction to a given signal; we 
measure the duration of the pronunciation of the four words, 
starting with the first word pronounced. With others we give a 
signal and as soon as the signal is heard they must name the four 
colors; we count the total time from the giving of the signal until 
the word green, the last of the series, is pronounced using our 
watch that marks the seconds; this rudimentary chronoscope is 
quite sufficient because the time required is not less than four or 
five seconds. It is curious to see patients, who like Samse have a 
level of seven years and even others who like Philipon have a 
level of nine years, give such very poor reactions. One of them 
made an anticipated reaction and said the word before the sig- 
nal was given; this was pointed out to her; she replied: "It was 
said all the same." Others remained some time without reaction 
to the signal. We said to one, ''Come now, start!" Instead of 
commencing to pronounce the names of the colors she laughs and 
looks at us. Has she forgotten the order? We ask her: 

Q. What must you do now? 
A. Why, I must begin. 

But she does not start, she does not pronounce a single word. 

We might have employed a chronoscope for registering the 
times of reaction of our subjects but that would have taught us 
nothing. When the delay and the irregularities are so great, 
hundredths of a second become insignificant. This is because in 
reahty something more than a slowness or a difficulty in the motor 
evocation of a word takes place here; the patient has lost the 
sense of the experiment and cannot recall what has been explained 



240 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

to him about the way to proceed. This is not a shght, limited, 
local trouble, such as every normal person has experienced when 
fatigued; it is a general confusion in the sense of direction, which 
makes one forget, to speak familiarly, ''where one is." We shall 
speak a little later of this general confusion. 

Slowness of words and gestures. Another form of the 
difficulty of evocation; certain patients show an extreme slowness 
in replying to questions as simple as these, "Point to your nose! 
your eyes! your mouth!" An old woman named Gauze who has a 
level of seven years was so slow that we had the curiosity to take 
the time of her gestures. To point to her nose she took three sec- 
onds and her eye four seconds. Here is a bit of dialogue in which 
we noted the time which elapsed between the end of our questions 
and the beginning of her replies. 

Q. How long since you came here? 

A. (After 5 seconds) It has been two weeks, 

Q. What is your profession? 
A. (After 3.5 seconds) I was cook. 
Q. How much did you earn a month? 

A. (After 4 seconds) Oh! that's nothing. When I was through I went 
away; they paid me. 

Q. Is this morning or afternoon? 

A. (After 2.5 seconds) It is afternoon. 

If the reader wishes to realize the slowness of the repl}' let him 
take his watch and allow the indicated time to pass; he will thus 
see the extraordinary pace of our dialogue with Gauze. Other 
tests show this same trouble of evocation in more complex phe- 
nomena. 

Lapsus calami. These are errors to which normal persons are 
subject in writing. When one writes quickly, or when one is pre- 
occupied by another thought than the one he is writing, or when 
one's head is fatigued, or finally, when one is writing amidst 
noise or distractions, it often happens that he skips a word or two. 
Such lapses are extremely frequent in the writing of general 
paralytics; usually dictating a few lines to them will suffice to 
bring this out; one would certainly not so easily obtain such 
lapses from a normal person who was either fatigued or absent- 
minded. Thus we dictate, "In the morning I walk in the coun- 
try." The patient wrote, "The morning walk in the country;" 
or else they wrote prone for promene omitting the syllable me in 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 241 

the middle of the word. Another, to whom had been dictated the 
sentence, "The pretty Httle girls study the flowers which they 
gathered yesterday," wrote ,"The pretty girls studied the flowers 
gathered yesterday." To appreciate the gravity of these omis- 
sions one must take great pains in dictating. If one imprudently 
dictates words before the patient has finished writing those pre- 
ceding, one will infallibly lead him to skip what has gone before. 
But we have a better example. Even in spontaneous writing the 
paralytic dement skips words; or rather, what is more serious, 
leaves a word unfinished and passes to the next. We have before 
us a letter written by a patient which eulogizes his talents as a 
painter. In this writing are to be found lapses hke the following, 
"I took extraordinary models from Africa. I made resplen views. 
The sky was red," He has written resplen for resplendent, the 
second part of the word did not form itself under his pen. It is 
simply to comply with usage that we call this phenomenon for- 
getfulness; in reality it is produced by lack of evocation. We 
do not encounter these lapses so frequently among the morons; 
when a moron writes he does not usually omit many words. 

Errors op arithmetic. For a long while alienists have found 
empirically clinical procedures which admirably bring to light the 
intellectual defects of these dements. Here the instinct of the 
investigator has gone ahead of his theory. It has been felt that 
the paralytic must betray himself in arithmetical operations be- 
cause these operations require a mental application of which he is 
incapable. 

Let us first see them counting sous; it is rare that a paralytic 
succeeds quickly in an exact calculation with sous. Thus Colon, 
who has a level of ten years and represents one of our most in- 
telligent patients, counts 17 sous when there are only 16. Most 
of them are so; they neglect a sou or two or they forget them. It 
is the same thing when dressing themselves or buttoning their 
clothes. Forgetting some of the sous is the same thing as having 
a dirty beard; it reveals the same mental state. We say negli- 
gence, because if we call their attention to it and tell them to be 
more careful they are able to count without error. 

When we give them written additions where there are numbers 
to be carried the operation is always difficult for them. One 
sees many of the paralytics act as though there were no number 
to be carried. Example, 36 + 29, he calculates thus; 6 plus 9 



242 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

equals 16, he writes 16; then he continues; he says 3 plus 2 equals 
5, he writes 5, and obtains a sum of 516. This is not the only- 
error that he commits but it is the most characteristic since he 
recalls the process of the operation. In what does this error con- 
sist? The subject has not, properly speaking, forgotten the rules 
of addition ; but he does not evoke them at the necessary moment ; 
he does not remember that the 1 of the first sum should be added 
to the number in the next column. 

Let us cite the example of Philippon who has a level of nine 
years and who nevertheless cannot do correctly a sum in addition, 
where there is a number to be carried. Here is a specimen of 
her work, four additions in which she has committed two types 
of errors, first, a frequent error of addition, and, second, a con- 
stant error of carrying consisting in writing the number to be 
carried as a separate figure. 

Furthermore, in the simplest operations an unbelievable 
number of errors is possible. We shall cite a few examples. 

54 38 84 29 

66 56 78 43 



11 11 8 16 13 12 6 17 

Addition executed by Philippon, general paralytic, who has a level of 
nine years. 

In the first place errors in the arrangement of the figures; as, 
when 4 is to be subtracted from 11, they write 11 below 4 and try 
to take 11 from 4; or they completely forget the number to be 
carried; or again, whenever there is a number to be carried espe- 
cially if the question is complicated they abandon the operation 
in the very midst. 

The following addition was given to Samse, 4 + 12. She 
counts, 4 and 2 are 6, and 1 are 7 and writes only the last figure. 

Disorder. Another confusion appears in their calculation 
which is very curious. Let us suppose them to be doing a prob- 
lem which requires a multiplication and afterwards a division. 
The beginning of the operation is easy enough; then in the midst 
of it they stop, are lost, and can no longer call up the conditions 
of the problems; no matter what effort they make they cannot 
gather up the thread. This state of disorder may be explained, 
it seems to us, in the following manner; when one performs a 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 243 

problem there is a train of reasoning that he follows out; he passes 
from argument a to argument h then to c then to d, and when he 
arrives at d he has still present in his mind c and h and a; he has the 
perception of the order followed up to the point where he stands ; 
and he sees briefly the whole route that he traversed; if he does 
not see this clearly, he has at least the feeling for it. This per- 
mits him to continue in a direction which is in harmony with 
the commencement. In the paralytic this subconscious evocation 
undergoes an eclipse; the idea flies, it disappears. It is like a 
signal light that vanishes; one cannot relight it so remains in 
darkness. Another comparison perhaps better and already used 
by us is that of the chess board. While one is studying the dis- 
posal of the pieces some one passes, hits the board and all the 
pieces are jumbled together. It is this chaos that is produced 
from time to time in the mind of the dement. He is conscious 
of this and says himself that he no longer knows what he is about. 
A very simple example is furnished us by a young man, Alex- 
ander, whose level is that of nine years. We say to him after 
putting money before him, "You are a merchant; here is money 
for you to make change from; and here is merchandise to sell. 
I will buy this box which costs four sous. I pay you with the 
twenty-sou piece. How much change will you giveme?" This 
explanation is repeated a great number of times. Then we say 
to Alexander, 

Q. How much will you give me back? 
A. Well, 4 sous. I give you back 4 sous. Here they are. 
And he gives us the 4 sous. 
Q. Let us see, how much was the box? 
A. 4 sous. 

Q. And I gave you how much? 
A. 50 centimes. 

Q. (Showing him the 1-fr. piece.) I gave you how much? 
A. 1 franc. 

He had inadvertently made an error, having mistaken a 1-fr. piece for 
50 centimes. But this was not his only error. 
Q. So you should give me back how much? 
A. 16; 16 and 5, that makes 21. 21 and 3 that makes 24. 
Q. You will give me then? 
A. 23. 
Q. 23 sous. 
A. You need still more 7, 3 and 7, 30, and 6, 36. 



244 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

This would be pure gibberish, if we had not followed step by 
step the ideas of Alexander and if we had not taken into account 
the manner in which he reasoned. Let us analyse. We obtained 
a first point; he is conscious that he should give us back 16 sous. 
But immediately afterwards he loses his direction; seeing some 
sous before him on the table, he thinks he must add them to that 
sum of 16; so he adds the piece of 5 sous which is on the table 
then 3 sous which makes 24, and he thinks that he should give 
back 24 sous. Here is a slight lapse for, having announced 24, 
he forgets and believes that it is 23. Then seeing that we still 
wait he has the idea of continuing his addition. To the 23 sous 
he adds all that he finds upon the table, first 7 sous, which makes 
30 sous, then 6 sous, which makes 36 sous. In reality he is com- 
pletely lost because he has abandoned his first idea and seems no 
longer to think of it. It is important to note that the operation 
does not by any means surpass his knowledge, his intellectual 
level; the proof of this is given in what follows. 

Q. Well then, let us begin again; the box costs? 

A. 4 sous. 

Q. I gave you? 

A. 1 fr. 

Q. Well then, you should give me back? 

A. (In a clear tone without hesitation) 16 sous. 

It is characteristic in these losses of functioning that the sub- 
ject knows how to do the problem submitted to him; he has the 
knowledge but from time to time the power fails him. To Colon, 
the house painter who has a level of ten years, we gave a simple 
written subtraction to do, 25 — 9. He wrote 25 and put the 
9 below the 5. 

Q. Calculate. 

A. 9 and 5, 14; I carry 1; 1 and 2, 3, 34. 

He has forgotten that he was to subtract and he makes an 
addition. The operation takes 30 seconds. 

Q. So 25 less 9, that makes 34? 

A. Yes sir (thinking it over), Oh, no; (he calculates again) 5 and 9, 
14, I carry 1; 1 and 2, 3. 

He repeats the same error. He is shown that he was wrong 
in making the addition. He starts again the same way. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENEEAL PARALYSIS 245 

Q. But I said 25-9. So 25-9 that makes 34? 

A. Oh! no. That makes , 25-9 that makes 21. 

Q. Calculate out loud. 

A. 25, 34, less 9, 34 less 9 that makes 20. 25 less 9, 15, 16, that 
makes only 16. Yes, 25 less 9, that makes 16. 

This second operation has taken one minute and fifty seconds 
which is an enormous time if one takes the pains to reahze it 
watch in hand. Notice that he has reached the true solution, 
which is to be expected since he has the level of ten years, but he 
has not attained the end without losing himself three times on 
the way; it was necessary each time to expressly demand, "Is 
the result correct?" to make him perceive that he had made an 
addition instead of a subtraction. This loss of direction indeed 
supposes an insufficience of evocation. To follow a direction, 
the directing idea must be prolonged either unconsciously or by 
short successive recurrences. Here we have seen with what 
facility it disappears. 

We now come to the phenomena of reception; perception, com- 
prehension of that which goes on about the individual. In these 
phenomena of reception the absence of evocation also makes itself 
felt. Here the sense of the word is a little diverted from its 
usage, because it is no longer a question of memory properly so 
called but of perception. We must admit however that in the 
formation of a perception there is implied a recalling; we perceive 
an object only because the stimulus of the sensation evokes 
some former knowledge, some acquired images. It is these im- 
plied evocations in every exterior perception which are badly 
formed in the general paralytic. Some unusual phenomena 
result from this; we are going to study some of these phenomena, 
notably the incomplete perceptions. 

Incomplete perceptions. In incomplete perceptions the 
sensations which ought to be the point of departure of the evo- 
cation are indeed felt, but only certain ones of these sensations 
make the evocations; the others rest inert; therefore, an incom- 
plete fragmentary perception results which one can very simply 
illustrate by the use of playing cards. 

Madame Gauze knows the cards. When asked to name those 
presented to her she indicates the suit correctly; for the value 
she is often obhged to count with her fingers. If a card is presented 
to her and she is asked simply to name it she usually indicates 
either the suit or the value, rarely both. Example, 



246 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Cards Shown Replies of Subject 

Ace of clubs Ace 

Queen of clubs A Queen 

Jack of clubs A Jack 

Jack of hearts A Jack 

Eight of spades Eight of hearts 

King of clubs King of hearts 

Queen of hearts (correct) 

Ten of spades Spades 

Ten of clubs Clubs 

Eight of clubs Eight of spades 

Queen of diamonds A Queen 

King of hearts The King 

King of spades Well, that's the King, 

Q. But what is he called? The King of spades. 

King of diamonds The King 

Jack of diamonds The Jack 

Is there here a defect of perception or a defect of evocation 
of the name? It matters little, the essential thing is to record 
that there is a defect. Another example shows the same defect, 
the same negligence being produced also by cards but under 
rather different conditions. We show the woman Philippon the 
nine of clubs. 

A. That is clubs. 

Q. How many of clubs? 

A. The seven. 

Q. (With surprise) Ah! 

A. On no! the nine, I am mistaken. 

Q. You must remember that it is the nine. 

A. Certainly. 

We place the card in a pack which is presented to her. 

Q. Find it now. 

A. (Gaily) Sure, I must find it, my card. 

She looks at the cards one by one, and makes two piles, one of 
red the other black, with errors from time to time in this useless 
assortment. During this operation the nine of clubs passes 
under her eyes. 

A. (Saluting the card) Here it is, my beauty. Come my old friend. 
But instead of taking out the card she puts others on top of it. We say 
to her. 

Q. You have not found the card. Give it to me. 
A. Oh! yes, I found it, it is the nine, and here it is. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 247 

She hands us the seven of clubs which she has just found; but 
then she shows a shght hesitation and perceiving the eight of 
clubs which came next she hands that instead of the seven. 

Q. Is that really the card that you were to give me? 
A. (Without looking at the card.) I am not mistaken. 
Q. Is it really the one? 
A. I tell you I am not mistaken. 

Q. Come now, look at the card (showing the eight of clubs). What is 
this card that you gave me? 
A. It is the eight. 
Q. And you should give me? 
A. The nine. 

Q. You have not given it to me? 
A. (In a familiar tone.) Rascal! 

She hunts in the pile and finds the ten of clubs and says: 
A. Here is the ten of clubs, the nine is not far away. 

This illustration shows several things, a defect of evocation 
of the right name, negligence, power of action inferior to knowl- 
edge. 

Illusions in exterior perceptions. We shall group with 
partial perceptions certain psychological phenomena which have 
an entirely different aspect but which depend upon the same 
fragmentary character of the perception. When our patient, to 
whom we show the six of hearts, tells us simply that it is six he 
forms an incomplete perception; but incomplete as it is the name 
remains correct, because the suit and the value in a playing card 
are distinct facts to be noted. It is no longer the same when 
the perception bears upon a collection of objects, a picture or an 
engraving; each of the elements in such a group has a significance 
which depends at the same time upon itself and upon the rest ; 
if one perceives it separately one may be deceived as to its nature. 
Therefore the number of errors which these patients make upon 
pictures is very great. Phihppon (nine year level), to whom we' 
show a picture representing a prisoner standing on his bed to 
look out of a narrow window, imagines that the man is perched 
on a rock; Bern sees in the cart of the ragman a horse which 
does not exist; Gauze, allowing her indolent glance to wander 
over a picture representing a poor old man and a woman seated 
on a bench, gives the following information. 



248 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. What is there, here? 

A. A man who is all white, and then his wife who is all black (if the 
man appears to her all white it is doubtless because of his white beard). 

Q. And what else? 

A. That! (she shows the trunk of a tree). And there a bench. 

A. And what besides? 

A. A spoon. 

Q. A spoon? Where is it? 

A. There, I think that is a spoon. 

Astonishing illusion; the scene clearly takes place on a boulevard. 
Where does she see a spoon? 

Q. Show me where the spoon is? 

She follows with her finger the picture of a street lamp. Thus she mis- 
takes for a spoon the street lamp, which in this case, would be very large 
and planted in the ground. We persist. 

Q. But where is all this which is happening? 

A. Well it is the man who is white and his wife who is black. 

Q. But are they in the house? Where are they? 

A. They are on a bench. 

Q. Are they in the country, by the road? 

A. Well, there wouldn't be things along a road. 

Q. What kind of things? 

A. Well, there is no housekeeping on a road (not clear). 

Q. But listen. Here are trees. 

A. Yes. 

Q. Then it is in a garden. 

A. Yes. 

Q. How could there be a spoon like that in a garden? 

A. I don't know. I said a spoon as I would say anything else. 

This illustrates the illusion of the senses among these patients, 
an isolated perception which is false, which is not correlated 
with the rest, and which is not corrected. 

Illusions in verbal perceptions. Here it is a question of 
perceiving and understanding a sentence pronounced by another 
person. Every sentence is a composition of words, each of which 
has not only its own sense but a sense determined by the rest of 
the sentence. If one perceives but one word of the sentence, or 
but a single syllable he may build upon it a perception which 
will be not only incomplete but above all erroneous. These 
verbal illusions though not very frequent often occur among 
general paratytics. We have noted a certain number of them. 
Gauze, before whom we talk and exchange the remark, ''iVows 
avons oublie ga," (We have forgotten that) says to us spontane- 
ously, "Je suis nee a Epernay;" (I was born in Epernay); it is 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 249 

probable that she perceived the isolated sound oiiblie and inter- 
preted it to be ou est nee. Another, Bern, hearing one of us say 
to the other, "N'est-ce pas?" (Is that not so?) was impressed 
simply by the sound and understood Espagne (Spain) and said 
to us, "In Spain you know they are very false; in Portugal they 

work. I lived with a French woman " after this came a 

description of her life as a house maid. 

Thus, partial perceptions may give place to verbal illusions. 
But we repeat this phenomenon is quite rare. 

Inertia of comprehension. The study of verbal illusions 
as well as that of incomplete perceptions puts us upon the track 
of a more general phenomenon, that of the inability to compre- 
hend the thought of others. We have often been struck by the 
difficulty which certain patients feel in understanding our verbal 
explanations; the least complicated explanation often does not 
penetrate; this is therefore a very serious obstacle when making 
psychological experiments upon them, because a psychological 
experiment is always dependent upon the primary condition that 
the explanatory remarks be understood; it is only after this first 
requirement is realized that one can go on with the experiment. 

What illustrations we could give of this difficulty in under- 
standing! Here for instance is the old woman. Gauze, who has 
a level of seven years and who besides knows how to count. We 
show her four single sous, and ask her, "How many are there?" 
She replies correctly, "four sous." We take away one and add 
three double sous which makes nine sous. We ask her again, 
"How many are there now?" She replies, "6 sous." As this 
is incorrect we say to her, "Count aloud." She commences to 
count, counting only the double ones, and says, "two, four, six 
sous." 

Here is the rest of the dialogue. 

Q. How! there are only six sous? 
A. Ah! with those three sous there. 
Q. Count again. 

We imagine she is going to count the single sous with the double ones. 
Not at all. 

A. (She looks attentively at each sou and says) A Republic. One sou. 

Two sous. 

The idea of counting, although so natural when one sees money, has 
disappeared. We are obliged to insist in order to make it return. 

Q. How much money does that make, all that? 

A. Two, four, six, seven, eight, nine. 



250 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



Here at last is the exact count. So she knows how to count 
but she is not able to grasp the idea that she must do it. This 
instructive scene ends by the following remarks from the patient. 

"My husband, he says, you ought to go to school. Very well, I am 
very sorry because I shall never get away. (She weeps.) So it was the 
doctor who said I must go awa.y from home. I did not know that it was 
here." 




FIG. 20. MLLE. PHILIPPUN; GtXEKAL PARALYTIC; INTELLECTUAL LEVEL 
OF NINE YEARS: NOTE THE SMILE OF SATISFACTION AND DISARRANGED 
TOILET. 

Here is another very typical example of the difficulty in under- 
standing. We wish to have some one repeat numbers in a de- 
scending order; for example to start at 20 and recite the lower 
ones 19, 18, 17 to 0. For a normal this explanation would be 
sufficient; as soon as our brief instructions were given he would 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 



251 



commence to pronounce the figures in the indicated order; he 
might be obHged to go very slowly or he might commit many 
errors, the execution of the experiment might be more or less 
defective but the idea of the experiment would have been grasped. 
Let us now take a general paralytic and see how much time 
and explanation are required for him. Philippon has the level of 




FIG. 21. PROFILE OF MLLE. PHILIPPON. 



nine years and consequently retains considerable intelligence. 
We give the entire detail of the test. 

Q. Will you count backwards beginning with 20, as far as 0? Do you 
understand? 

A. (With a satisfied air). That is not difficult. 

Q. Well begin. 

A. 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80 



252 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. No, not that; you must count as I do. 20, 19, 18, 17 — - — and so on 
down to 0. 

A. (With a nod of acquiescence.) Yes. 

Q. Commence, 20! 

A. Let's say 10. 

Q. No, say 20, 19, 18, and then? 

A. 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100, 1,000. There! 

Q. But no. Listen to me. You are going to do as I do. I will do it 
first, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. Do you 
understand? 

A. Yes 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 

Q. But, no! 

A. (Continuing) 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 1.3 

Q. But, no! 

A. (Continuing) 14, 16, 17 

Q. But no! Stop! That is not it. It is in the other direction you 
must count. 

A. Yes, I counted forwards. 

Q. You must count backwards. 20, 19 

A. 20, 19 

Q. (Prompting) 18, and then! 

A. And then 20, so 22, 24, 26, 28, 30. 

Q. Listen. Do as I do! 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 
6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. 

A. Oh! very well. I will do like that. 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 12, 13, 

10 I've lost it 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, well 3, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1^— and to goon 

25, 30, etc. 

She took 35 seconds to count backwards, a considerable time. 

Q. Try to go quicker, 20, 19, 

A. 36, 37. 

Q. No, not like that, 20, 19, 18, • 

A. 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 17, 16, 15. I've lost it. 

Q. 14. 

.4. 14, 13, 12, 11, 11. 

Q. 10. 

A. 10, 9, 8, 8, 6, 5, 3, 2, and 1. 

This time it required 45 seconds. 

In analysing this long attempt it can be seen that our patient 
has understood only because we have had the patience to give 
her six complete explanations, while in general a single one suffices. 
But notice that. this woman knew very well how to count back- 
wards since she finally succeeded; it is not, therefore, the knowl- 
edge that is lacking but the comprehension of what is asked of 
her. All this is a remarkable example of inertia of comprehension. 

We ask Vigne. "How many fingers have you on the right 

hand?" She asks to have the question repeated. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 253 

A. On the right hand? I have two hands. 
Q. But how many fingers have you on the right hand? 
A. I have ten. 

Q. On the right hand? I ask you on the right hand! The right hand! 
How many fingers have j'^ou? 

A. Very well I have two (showing both hands). 

Q . No, on your right hand, how many fingers? 

A. (She only gives a questioning, astonished look.) 

Q. How many fingers have you on the right hand? 

A. Ah! I don't know what you mean. 

We put exactly the same question to her sometime afterwards. 

A. Well, I have five. 

Q. And on the left hand? 

A. Oh! well, I have five. 

Q. And on both? 

A. Well that makes ten. 

She knows then how to reply and to give the very simple in- 
formation that is asked of her, but she does not understand 
what is wished of her. 

This continual lack of comprehension often prevents their 
taking part in a directed conversation, a very striking contrast 
by the way, with what we have observed among imbeciles. In a 
disconnected conversation, especially if one follows their lead, 
they may for a time give a false impression of the value of their 
intelhgence, as they habitually show a greater fluency than 
imbeciles, but a precise and definite questioning immediately 
brings out their deterioration. 

Psychologically, lack of comprehension consists in the absence 
of suggestion of ideas. A person who understands has a train of 
ideas following the words heard, and the ideas correlate with the 
words; a person who does not understand, to whom one speaks 
for example an unknown language, hears the sounds but the 
evocation of ideas does not take place; or possibly ideas are evoked 
whose falsity is at once discernible. Among our patients we 
sometimes observe, in cases such as we have just cited, a complete 
absence of evocation; or, at least if the absence is not rigorously 
absolute, which probably never occurs, it is sufficiently striking 
for the patient to have the feeling that he has not understood, or 
indeed for the idea evoked to be insignificant. But now and then 
a false idea is produced which constitutes a contradiction. This 
contradiction manifests itself more clearly in two somewhat 
different cases where the phenomena is a little more complicated, 



254 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

which we shall call greffage [grafting], and incongruous replies. 
In lack of comprehension there is only inertia disclosing itself 
by a negative state, a repose ; in greffage there is a certain intel- 
lectual activity. 

Greffage. In a conversation, apropos of a poorly under- 
stood question for example, or a picture to be interpreted, it often 
happens that a general paralytic does not content himself with 
an irrelevant reply, but grafts upon it the aimless development 
of an idea. 

Let us cite examples. Samse is in the act of repeating words 
that have been given her and this is the way that greffage occurs. 

Q. Papa. 

A. Papa. 

Q. Shoe, hat. 

A. Shoe, the hat. 

Q. I am cold, I am very hungry. 

A. I am cold, I am very hungry. 

Q. I have a handkerchief. I have clean hands. 

A. (Nowise distracted.) Of course I have. 

Q. You did not repeat! 

A. Oh! yes, I did say it. 

Useless to argue. Let us continue. 

Q. (Giving a sentence to repeat.) My name is Gaston! Oh! the dread- 
ful dog! 

A. Ah! ah! that's true, so it's a dog, that's all right. 

Q. (Giving with energetic accent a new sentence to repeat.) It rains 
in the garden! Joseph is doing his lessons! 

A. Ah! ah! that's good. 

Q. You have repeated? 

A. Oh! yes. 

Q. What did you say? 

A. I said that was good. Joseph works well then. 

Let us notice what happens. When the repetition is easy 
Samse does not fail; when the sentence becomes longer and the 
repetition is consequently more difficult Samse ceases to make 
the necessary effort to reproduce the sentence verbatim; she 
fixes her attention upon the idea expressed by the sentence and 
the grafting begins. 

Another example furnished by Bern. We have her repeat 
some sentences. She does it correctly, then the grating begins. 

Q. My name is Gaston. Oh! the dreadful dog! 

J.. Oh! the bad dog. I had Turc, a pretty bulldog 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 255 

Q. We enjoy ourselves greatly; I have caught a mouse. 

A. Oh yes. I have caught a mouse. There were rats above there 

is a granary, etc. 

Here is a similar example of grafting in the definitions. 

Q. What is a fork? 

A. A fork, it's a fork. I have three of silver. But they are marked. 

Q. What is a horse. 

A. There are horses at Corbenay. I have seen cows; and ducks; they 
lay eggs, and then the chickens, there are chickens. Yes, ducks lay eggs, 
etc. 

The same is true with Philippon. 

Q. Papa, mama. 

A. Papa, mama, my sister, my brother, cousins, plenty of them, my 
cousin who is, etc. 

Q. Shoe, hat. 

A. Shoe, hat. I have a beautiful hat with violets. 

Q. It is cold, I am hungry. 

A. Oh yes, on the contrary it is warm. I am hungry, I hope to go 
home to have good things to drink and eat ; we never get enough ; it is like 
the two ladies, there, they have eaten nothing this evening, it is too long, 
it is necessary to force everybody; at Grenelle I shall stop to get my watch. 
And then I am going to have my teeth pulled, etc. 

Q. We enjoy ourselves greatly, I have caught a mouse. 

A. Oh! the poor little creature. I would love to have one of those 
little creatures in a cage. I used to sell matches, and birds at the market. 
I have done everything. I did then as well as my sister-in-law, etc. 

Exactly what is this greffage from a psychological point of 
view? It supposes indeed a certain inertia of comprehension 
because a patient who understood clearly that he was to repeat 
a sentence and nothing else would avoid adding whole sentences 
of his own invention. In addition to this there is nonsense, that 
is to say an absence or a weakness of direction; there is also a 
certain cerebral activity that manifests itself under a form which 
has no need of reflection nor of effort. At first thought, this 
intellectual activity seems contradictory to our hypothesis of 
inertia of evocation; if all their ideas were struck with inertia 
how would all this garrulity be possible? It is because the 
inertia of evocation may manifest itself by the failure to evoke 
the correct idea, the precise one which is needed, and while the 
only idea of which there is need is not aroused, a swarm of other 
ideas rush in which are indifferent or really false. 

Incongruous replies. Here are some singular replies. 
They are not absolutely lacking in sense but they have no rela- 



256 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

tion to the question. These replies are frequent among certain 
general paralytics but not among all. So far as we know they 
have not been pointed out up to the present; they have without 
doubt passed unperceived; and we understand why because 
we ourselves did not notice them for a long time; we collected 
them in our stenographic work without realizing their import. 
When one of our patients made an incongruous reply we dis- 
regarded it; we attributed it to some casual circumstance without 
significance. For instance, we supposed that our patient in 
listening to us had a moment's distraction or perhaps that he 
was hard of hearing. Here are some fragments of these dialogues. 
We choose our examples of course from the clearest cases; not all 
cases are equally incongruous. 

We ask Holeg, who was once a cabman on his own account and 
later was coachman for another, 

Q. Why did you go out of business for yourself? 

A. The hackney-coaches. 

Q. Yes, but why did you go out of business? 

A. Yes, I had coachmen. 

A. But why did you quit? 

A. Ah! because went home. Then I hired out to some employers. 

Q. Yes, but you had been proprietor. Why did you cease? 

A. Because I had enough; because I had to work myself. 

However mediocre this last reply he might have given it at first. 

Q. How long did you stay with your employer? 

A. Oh! I stayed a long time with him, three years. ' 

Q. Where were you before? 

A. I was in business myself. 

Q. Where was that? 

A. For fifteen years. 

He replies to a question of address by information about the time. 

We ask another patient, a women 36 years old. 

Q. Madame, what is your name? 

A. Louise, ApoUine. 

Q. How old are you? 

A. I am lay No. 3 (incomprehensible reply). 

Q. Let me see, what did you say? 
A. It was in the blind alley Barrier. 

She lived rightly enough No. 3, Blind Alley Barrier. She gives her ad- 
dress when asked her age. 
Q. But how old are you? 
A. Thirty-six years old. 
Q. In what year were you born? 
A. In Crepe Sa6ne-et-Loire. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 257 

She was born in Cr6py-en-Valois, Oise. 

Q. How is that? 

A. How is that? 

Q. In what year were you born, I ask? 

A. Ah! I don't know, because I was little at that time. 

She replies by giving the place of her birth when asked to give the date. 

Again : 

Q. How much does your husband earn? 

A. His name is Vanbergh. There is an h at the end. 

Q. But how much does he earn? 

A. How is that? 

Q. But how much does your husband earn? 

A. His name is Vanbergh. 

Q. Yes, but how much does he earn? 

A. I do not know what he earns. 

Q. And you, what do you do? 

A. Yes, he has a lame foot. He got a splinter in his foot. 

Same remark. She gives her husband's name when asked how much 
he earns. 

Bern, a woman of forty who has a level of seven years, abounds in in- 
congruous replies. 

Q. At what age were you married? 

A. I kept house for twelve years. 

This is not a reply to the question. 

Q. How old will you be when you are a hundred years old? 

A. I will be old. I won't go to a hundred years nor my husband either. 

Q. But how old will you be when you are a hundred years old? 

A. I won't go to a hundred years. 

Again an answer which does not fit the question. 

We ask of Samse. 

Q. Are you a lady or gentleman? 

A. (Laughing) Oh! I am not a gentleman, oh! 

Q. Are you a little boy? 

A. I have none. 

Always the same incongruity. 

All these nonsensical replies suppose that the question has only 
been partially understood by the patients. They understand 
that a question has been asked; they even understand some words 
of the question or its general sense, but they do not grasp it in 
its integrity nor get its shade of meaning, so the reply is indirect. 
It is the same mechanism as that which produces partial per- 
ceptions; the mechanism is as follows. Not all the words heard 
evoke their appropriate images; there is only a fragmentary 
perception of the sentence, although, a circumstance important 
to note, the question asked is not above the intelligence of the 



258 THE INTELLIGENCE OP THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

patient. It suffices as a rule to insist, to raise the voice, to arouse 
the attention, in order to destroy this psychic deafness and finally 
to obtain a correct reply. Furthermore a development of ideas 
is produced by inertia. The patient in whom an idea has been 
previously awakened continues it, without asking himself if it 
applies to the present case. The following example is characteris- 
tic. 

Q. (To Bernard) Show me your right ear. 
A. Here it is. (She points to it.) 
Q. Show me your left hand. 
A. These are my little ears. 

She continues to think of her ears either because she does not 
understand the new question or because she finds it difficult to 
leave the first question. It is inertia; but it is the inertia of move- 
ment, the continuation of an impulse, a ball which continues to 
roll. 

In that which precedes we have taken no account of the clinical 
signs by which one habitually recognizes general paralysis. These 
signs are too complex and at the same time they are known in 
too inexact a manner to serve in the building up of a psychological 
theory. Indeed they are known chiefly through the testimony 
of relatives or sometimes by the very incomplete accounts given 
by the patients themselves. It only remains to be seen whether 
they contradict the observations which we have here presented. 
It seems to us that they do not. 

An important fact which has struck all alienists is that it is by 
his state of being and his acts rather than by the disorder of his 
speech that a patient betrays the change which takes place. 
The acts which attract the attention are variable. They differ 
according to the individual, according to circumstances, according 
to chance. They may be classed as errors like negligence, for- 
getting important matters, destroying useful things, delays, 
abandoning of work for no reason; faults of housekeeping, for 
example, meals not ready on time, the food too salty, or burned ; 
useless expenditure; carelessness of dress; and lastly delinquent 
acts, robbery, petty thieving, indecencies, etc. 

Among these clinical facts we shall choose only one, which is 
very characteristic and which may be observed as soon as the 



PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 259 

patient enters the asylum; it is the unconsciousness which he 
shows in relation to his new situation. Many cannot find their 
direction, they do not know where they are, they know neither 
the day, the month, nor the hour of the day; they do not, there- 
fore, take into account the little external signs which should 
permit them to orient themselves. A patient, writes Kraepelin, 
repHes that it is January notwithstanding there are fresh cherries 
on the table. We recall having seen a woman about fifty years 
of age who was only at the beginning of her malady and who in 
her conversation showed herself so intelligent, so sensible, that 
one would not suspect any intellectual weakening; yet already 
she showed that indifference to her surroundings which is so 
characteristic of paralytic dementia. To thoroughly under- 
stand this indifference and above all to judge of it let us imagine 
how a perfectly normal person would feel if he were locked up 
in an asylum ; let us put ourselves in the place of such a person ; 
the most careless of us would be disturbed and irritated by this 
sequestration. We should want to know where we were and why 
we were locked up. The first time our patient was brought to 
the office and introduced to us she seated herself tranquilly in a 
chair, drew her glasses from their case, and began to read the 
paper as if she did not understand that it would be to her interest 
to know who we were and what we wanted of her. Note that 
she had only just been brought to the hospital. There was 
therefore in her a lack of comprehension of the surroundings, 
a state which resembled metaphorically that of partial percep- 
tion; it was as though she saw only the table, the chairs, the 
wholly material part of the office, and perceived nothing beyond 
and did not reahze that the office belonged to a hospital and 
that the hospital enclosed her like a prison. The ease with which 
such patients accept their sequestration was long ago noted 
by alienists; it is sometimes the only sign which they give of 
their intellectual weakening. In everything else they seem 
normal. 

With others the trouble takes on a shghtly different form. 
They demand their release every time they see the physician; 
but they do not seem to remember that the previous day they 
asked the same thing in identical terms and, moreover, that it 
has lead to nothing, and that during the interval of the visits 
of the physician they paid no more heed to then' release and spoke 
of it to no one. 



260 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

It seems to us that nothing in all these diverse facts is contrary 
to the explanation which we have given of the lack of power of 
evocation; to forget important objects, neglect to salt the food, 
or salt it twice, or, again, to lose the sense of propriety, of modesty, 
or even of duty, all this attributed according to the case to loss 
of memory, of judgment, of attention, to the "I have forgotten," 
"I did not pay attention;" but all this should be explained, as 
we think, by a weakening of the power of evocation of ideas 
and feehngs; the last idea does not reappear and, hence, forget- 
fulness, inattention. The correcting sense which would inhibit 
the grotesque or immoral act does not awaken, and hence, the 
loss of judgment or of moral sense. One has therefore no trouble 
in harmonizing cUnical facts with the theory which we have just 
outUned; but let it be clearly understood that we prefer to rely 
upon personal and direct observations, rather than clinical his- 
tories which are too often obtained second hand. Chnical facts 
will not serve to construct or to demonstrate our theory; let us 
content ourselves with proving that they do not contradict it. 

3. Considerations upon the difficulty of functioning, 
ITS extent and its character. We have already cited a great 
number of examples of this lack of evocation which we believe 
to be characteristic of paralytic dementia. We have been able 
to note that according to the domains considered the phenomenon 
of evocation takes on different aspects; for the acts of memory 
it constitutes forgetfulness; for movements and acts it shows 
itself either by lapses in writing or by a lack of continuity in 
occupations; for perceptions it is equivalent to defect, almost 
to anaesthesia that is, as it were, psychic deafness. At other 
tumes the same phenomenon has been designated under the name 
of lack of attention, or distraction, or neghgence. But under 
these different aspects and in spite of this varying terminology 
we always find a weakening of the same faculty, the faculty of 
evocation. 

In the light of all these observations this faculty appears as 
one of the most important parts of the intellectual mechanism. 
It does not consist solely in awakening an isolated memory, 
it is not limited to a mere detail of the memory function; it comes 
into play in all intellectual operations; it furnishes them their 
necessary food because all intellectual work is performed by 
means of ideas, and these ideas need to be evoked. Let us 



DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 261 

illustrate exactly what happens. That which we use for work 
is not at all a single idea which is illuminated for a moment and 
is quickly extinguished, like someone who has only one gas jet 
which he successively lights and extinguishes. In reality every 
work supposes a considerable number of ideas which have some- 
times been called a constellation. For an instant we have need 
for example, of idea 1; then, to continue the work commenced, 
1 must be echpsed and ideas, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, quickly illuminated; 
then one returns to 1, then one has need of 7 and of 8; then they 
are extinguished and one lights 2, 3, 4, etc. So the work goes 
on by successive extinguishings and re-lightings which require 
that the whole range of ideas remain ready for active service; 
this is what assures the continuity of work, and what g.ves us 
the impression of its continuity notwithstanding the discontinuity 
of the hghting; it is this which permits a certain direct on to 
be followed continually, a theme to be developed in all its rami- 
fications. To sum up, this is the important phenomenon of vhich 
the cases heretofore studied have given us only slight examples. 
It is this broad sense which must be given to the phenomenon 
of evocation of the states of consciousness. And consequeii|bly, 
when we say that the work of evocation is imperilled in paraliftic 
dementia, it is as if we said that the whole operation of thought 
is rendered difficult. 

But we must go farther. Upon the whole, evocation is oily 
one example of mental functioning and however important tHs 
may be it does not include all the rest. Mental functioning sub- 
poses many other forms of activity. There exists not only ii 
evocation of the states of consciousness, but besides an acquisi- 
tion, a fixation of these states; and when they are evoked theV 
must be worked over, that is to say, compared, judged, com^ 
bined, ampHfied, or on the contrary analyzed, reduced, or per4 
haps contradicted, r^atraHzed or inhibited. Why should the 
reproduction of *^^^ states of consciousness be the only disordered! 
part in all tie mental mechanism? There is no reason to admit it, \ 
On thp contrary, there is reason to suppose that our subjects 
are affected in all their mental operations whatever they may be. 

To shorten ths demonstration we shall cite only one weU 
known example; it is the diflSculty which a general paralytic 
experiences m fking new impressions. All ahenists know, that 
they learn poorly. We give a simple test, which very clearly 



262 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

illustrates this difficulty. Using a red crayon we draw a head 
on a large sheet of white paper placed before the patient. When 
it is finished we say, "This is Ernest." Then by its side we 
draw another figure, using a blue crayon and say, "This is Louis." 
Lastly we draw a third with a black crayon and say, "This is 
Antoine." Then repeating we say, "This is Ernest, this is 
Louis, th's is Antoine. Pay attention to the names what I 
give then, Ernest, Louis, and Antoine." In this way we have 
named eich figure three times in succession and each time the 
figure was pointed out. If one plays this little game with a 
general paralytic one will be surprised at the difficulty that the 
patient finds in retaining these three names and in applying them 
correctly. Thus Philippon, the woman with a level of nine years, 
canno'- recall anything after the first instruction which, as we 
have said, consists in naming the figures to her three times. 
After a second lesson composed like the first of three namings 
she nakes a mistake and names them in the following order, 
LouB, Ernest, Antoine. It requires a third lesson similar to 
the two preceding ones for the three figures to be finally named 
cor'ectly. 

^amse, another general paralytic a little lower than the pre- 
cecing having a level of seven years, fails still more strikingly. 

Af:er the first lesson she says, "Very well, Louis, Antoine How 

about it? Joseph! " The name of Joseph has not been 

spken. After the second lesson she is sure that she can repeat 

it correctly, she says, "Sure enough, Antoine How about 

it? What is his name? I don't remember." After a third 
lesson, she says, "Louis, Antoine Yes, his name is Antoine." 

Without further comment, and without the necessity for bring- 
Tig in terms of comparison, it is evident that these defects in 
exact repetition after so many lessone, denote a profound weaken- 
ing of the memory for acquired knowledge. The task to be 
performed was not only the conservation of se^o^ai impressions, 
it was also necessary not to become confused, bui, to give the 
correct name to each figure; we demanded af the meinory a 
certain gymnastic feat which is evidently very easy for an adult, 
or for a child of nine years, but which is singuhrly embarrassing 
for our subjects. We have reproduced this sample at some 
length in order to show that the phenomena of deficiency in 
these paralytics extends not to evocation alone, thfc.t evocation 



DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 263 

is only one example, which in fact we offer because it is clear, 
precise, and easily demonstrable; but we willingly admit — al- 
though the proof has not been rigorously made — that among gen- 
eral paralytics all forms of intellectual functioning are affected. 

Will it be possible to indicate further how this is true, and in 
what the difficulty, the obstacle consists? 

For a long while we have meditated upon these facts; and at 
first we beheved that we could explain all the psychology of 
general paralysis by a diminution of voluntary effort. We said 
repeatedly that what is characteristic of the general paralytic 
is the impossibility of making an effort. This explanation seems 
to us now only partially correct; we take it up here only to pass 
beyond it. 

At first sight one sees clearly that many of the tests in which 
the patients fail demand a slight effort; thus it requires an effort 
to count backwards or to work rapidl/ either in counting figures 
or in turning a handle. On the otlier hand it is particularly 
when one creates a slight difficulty for them that their intellectual 
incapacity shows itself. If one is coatented with carrying on a 
colorless conversation with them, sudi as many people use while 
visiting, talking of nothing but the weather or the servants, they 
can reply to such commonplace renarks by others which are of 
equal value, for such remarks belong to their level, but in reality 
they cannot make an effort. 

Let it be understood also that if tiey are prevented from mak- 
ing an effort, it is not because of a .pecial attitude of the will or 
of the character; they are neither mlky, stubborn, nor peevish 
like certain of our imbeciles who positively refuse to submit 
to our experiments when they coull easily execute them if they 
were only willing. Nor do they reemble those other imbeciles 
who, because of a feeling of defeence do their best like good 
children. The parfiJytic ordinarily shows neither willingness nor 
annoyance, b"^ rather a very partiular mental state of indiffer- 
ence wbJ^£i is sui generis in this particular malady. 

But in order to explain all that takes place in them it is not 
sufficient to assert that they are powerless to make an effort. 
That would be an error of interpretation. The effort is nothing 
else than an additional apparatus which gives more power to 
the intellectual machine, as the ad/ancing of the spark is a par- 



264 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

ticular condition which gives more speed to an automobile. 
But one uses these reinforcements only when there is an unusual 
object to conquer; under ordinary conditions the intelligence 
functions without effort. But just so with our dements the ordi- 
nary conditions do not suffice because what is easy for a normal 
has become difficult for them. Let us recall the examples that 
we have given before. The citation of proper names and of 
fio-ures which comes at the first call of a normal memory is no 
longer possible with them; the dividing of the attention between 
two diferent elements, for example the color and the value of 
a card, can no longer be made; the memory of a sentence is dis- 
turbed if we merely dictate a new portion while the subject is 
finishing the writing of the first part. 

These are failures of evocation and not disturbances in the 
production of effort. In order to agree with our previous ex- 
planation it would, however, be correct to say, that among para- 
lytic dements the faculty of evocation functions with difficulty; 
and that because of some aggravating circumstance the faculty 
of effort, which might serre to compensate for this difficulty 
of functioning, is often equally affected which renders the case 
irremediable. All this reninds one of a village where there 
is not only a fire, but where 1he firemen are absent. The disaster 
is doubled, but the direct ause is the fire; the absence of the 
firemen only aggravates it. 

The correctness of our interpretation is proved by what hap- 
pens to our patients when ther chance to be still capable of effort. 
Thus, Jonas, an aged womai who seems intelligent in spite of 
her decay, confided to us om day something of which we give 
the exact reproduction: "I hive to take great pains," she said, 
"when I try to remember -what day it is," and again: "You 
must believe that I do all I c?i. It makes me angry that I can- 
not overcome it this ap^hy." There is with her then a 

slight power of effort, or the idea of effort, the willingness to 
try, but that is not sufficien; her effort cannot conquer that 
state which she calls apathy aid which in our opinion constitutes 
an inertia of functioning. Tlis proves therefore that it is not 
alone by the absence of effort t^at these patients are characterised. 
The absence of effort when it t)ccurs, as it very frequently does, 
only aggravates the inertia [)f functioning which constitutes 
the essential character of the mentality of general paralytics. 



DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 265 

Is this term inertia exactly correct? This is the last question 
that we shall discuss in this chapter. For those who have read 
attentively what we have written there can be no doubt. The 
troubles revealed so far with our patients consist especially in 
not doing any one thing, or in doing it incompletely, or in making 
mistakes in doing it, or in doing it with an excessive slowness; 
all of this is expressed exactly by the term inertia. And the 
word seems all the more fitting because so many of the patients 
have a heavy, stupid look with slow gestures, thick speech, 
and inexpressive countenance, and they appear fatigued, al- 
though when questioned upon this point they assure us that they 
are not tired and even that they never feel so. All these facts 
harmonize and it seems to us that we may well apply to these 
functional troubles the term inertia. 

Nevertheless we find many patients who do not at all corre- 
spond to this conception ; they are those who have delirious ideas 
and who fabricate a great number of them and who therefore 
show a strong intellectual activity. Delirium is suflSciently 
frequent among general paralytics for certain authors to believe 
themselves justified in describing this delirium as a representa- 
tion of their mental state. ^ It would seem difficult, at least at 
first sight, to admit that a delirious patient has functional inertia. 

Here is Ramonot, a young man of about twenty-five years 
of age, who is worthy of being studied at length; let us interrupt 
ourselves to examine him in detail. The first time that we saw 
him he overflowed with satisfaction seating himself squarely 
in his chair, tipping himself backwards and twisting his thumbs 
while regarding us with a gleam in his black eye. 

Q. What have you to tell us? 

A. Always fortune in abundance. Always happy. What would you 
have. One always turns them (the thumbs). There is nothing else to 
do to be happy. Always in the thirty million who smile at you 

It is his favorite idea that he is soon to be decorated by FalHeres. 
We try to make him talk freely upon this theme while we confine 

« Let it be said in passing, there is here an error. The delirious con- 
ceptions of a general paralytic are quite in harmony with the mental state 
by their incoherent and often childish character; but their description 
cannot replace that of the mental state which we have given; they are a 
manifestation, a product of that mental state, they are not the state itself. 



266 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

ourselves to listening; he speaks slowly, searches a little for words 
and a good deal for his ideas. 

Q. What are you going to do? 

A. Well, we are going to march according to honor all over Europe, 
we are very good friends, very good friends, from all countries. We can 
march with head erect, with high hats. I do not know how to wear a 
high hat, I am going to wear a soft hat, because a soft hat is more becom- 
ing to me than a high hat. One always smiles, always. When one feels 

that everybody adores you that makes you happy oh! that good M. 

Fallieres. I want him to sign next to me. Mine is the last signature 

It is he who is going to decorate me. And you know that everybody is 

happy. I press to my heart the Cross of the Legion of Honor on my 

heart — when he says, "The powers which devolve upon me." He will 
not embrace me but his heart will be in it etc., etc. 

Upon our invitation the patient is pleased to dictate to us a 
letter to Fallieres. Here it is reproduced exactly. 

Monsieur le President Fallieres; 

I thank you for all the goodness which you have shown me. I am happy 
to have the good wishes which you have shown me in your company, as 
have all the Presidents of the Republic who are happy to have me in their 
power. And I will always do my duty towards all the comrades who are 

under our orders and all the people are happy to amuse themselves 

with the thirty millions of which we are in possession, everybody will 
be happy, will dance, will ride on bicycle m,Orning and night; and as soon 
as we are returned from the bicycle ride we will have a good meal, and 
after the meal we will dance until we receive further orders and then we 
will continue during the whole year; we will attend the vintage, we will 
drink good wine, we will all go up into the vat, and so there will be no 
need of a wine press (he laughs) to take the grapes and we will taste the 
good wine, and after each meal we will take a glass of wine of cod-fish 
which will do us enormous good. I am happy for the decoration which 
I have the pleasure of wearing, I greet cordially all the Presidents of the 
Republic and with all my heart. Also signed: all the Presidents of the 
Republic. — Ramomot Louis. 

At another time we wished to arouse some doubts in his mind 
concerning the object of his delirium or to scrutinize the reasons 
upon which he bases his belief in this story of his decoration. 

The following dialogue takes place: 

Q. You have seen Fallieres? 

A. I have always been in his service. From the time I was born I 
was always in his service. 

Q. As domestic? 

A. (In nowise offended) As friend, as president and for my goodness 
he decorated me with the greatest decoration and the same for all my 
brothers. 



DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 267 

Q. But you, have you seen him? 

A. Yes absolutely. 

Q. Where did you see him? 

A. At Longchamps where every one passes. 

Q. But did he speak to you? 

A. Like a brother. 

Q. To you? 

A. Personally. 

Q. At Longchamps? 

A. At Longchamps. 

Did he then have hallucinations? 

Q. You believe that? 

A. And even last year I found myself face to face with him in the woods. 

Q. And then? 

A. And then I applauded. 

Q. Did he get down from his carriage to speak to you? 

Listen to his reply. 

A. I did not have that trouble because after the offerings I made him 
that went from my place to his. 

Q. Did he shake hands with you? 

A. Never. 

He is frank. There was no hallucination. 

Q. But how do you know he is going to decorate you? 

A. By the praises he has given me. And it is because of this that he 
gives me the decoration that I merit and my certificate of good conduct. 
And the flag will not be forgotten. 

Q. But how do you know it. Has he told you? 

A, He has not told me personally. 

Q. How do you know it then? 

A. By the tone of his voice. When he reads that to the people 

Q. What? 

A. He will proclaim it to all the soldiers. 

Q. But suppose you are deceived? 

A. Oh! I do not believe it. With friends like you, I do not believe it. 

His amiability extends to us even when we contradict him. 

Q. And if Fallieres did not decorate you? 

vi. Oh! I don't doubt that. I am persuaded because the crosses are 
already upon his desk. 

Q. You have seen them? 

A. Oh! no, but I see them from here. 

Q. That is indeed a proof. 

A. I see all the crosses lined up. 

Q. But really, you are not sure? 

A. Certain. 

Q. (To Dr. Simon who is present.) That is very well organized. 

A. It could not be better organized. 

Q. But you have not seen them, the crosses? 

A. Gentlemen my friends, you have seen them as I have. And you 



268 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

too will have one of them. And we will pass at Longchamps before the 
soldiers. 

Q. I also? 

A. Oh! everybody. All the staff officers. 

Q. Even the dogs? 

He does not see the absurdity of the idea. 

A. The dogs too the dogs are friends. 

Q. There will be a tiny decoration for them, too? 

A. Little bows. We will be in line. 

Q. But come now, the decorations, you have not seen them, it is an 
idea you have in your head? 

A. It is an idea of grandeur. 

Let us try to batter down his idol. 

Q. Fallieres is ugly! 

A. He is ugly, but he is good as milk. 

Q. When he gets angry he breaks everything. 

A. He must not break the decoration, that's sure! 

Q. What would you do? 

A. I would weep. 

Q. And afterwards? 

A. Oh, well, I would laugh. 

One can see here a curious character, the disconnected nature of the 
emotional life of the invalid. 

Q. You are too young to be decorated. 

A. But I have a good heart. It is there. 

Q. Why do you say that your heart is good? 

A. Because it is my mother who made it. 

Q. But how does it happen that it is good? 

A. Everybody loves me 

Q. Come, come! You do not believe all you have told me? 

A. (with irony) Of course not. It is a dream. 

Q. It is all humbug? 

A. It is all humbug! 

And as an attendant whom we have called comes to take him 
away, he says to him graciously, while showing him his trousers 
which are falling, "Button me up, my old fellow." 

This happy man has a level of nine years and, it may be said in 
passing, one can see that his delirium has nothing to do with his 
level ; some of our patients have no delirium although they have a 
level very inferior to nine years. 

The letters dictated by this Ramonot remind us by their em- 
phatic tone, by their basis of self-love, by the slowness of their 
delivery, of the discourse of our imbecile Cabussel which we have 
already published (see p. 80.) These lucubrations and these 
witty conversations, however poor in ideas, suppose always a 



DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 269 

certain intellectual activity. Moreover, Ramonot talks with 
considerable fluency upon all subjects. One may see in this a 
certain objection to our theory. We might ask ourselves how can 
this intellectual activity be reconciled with the symptoms which 
we hold as characteristic of functional inertia. Inertia and ac- 
tivity, are they not contradictory? Yes, they are contradictory 
but not incompatible. Many observations have shown us that 
these are two symptoms which can be neighbors in the same mind. 
Exactly what is functional inertia? It is a hindrance, a grain of 
sand, the lack of oil in the wheels of a machine. The intellectual 
activity, to continue the metaphor, is the force which is apphed to 
this machine and which should be given out again; one can easily 
conceive that great force may be applied to a machine and that 
nevertheless, the machine is hindered by a resistance produced 
by the poor condition of its parts. But one of the most curious 
facts that we have observed in the course of our studies upon the 
insane is that when there is a diminution of the power of function- 
ing they are unable to solve the more complicated problems al- 
though they can still do the simpler ones. With the use of our 
measuring scale we can easily perceive this. Let us cite examples. 
A little imbecile shows ill will in regard to us ; she is pouty, sullen, 
scarcely replies, and is always anxious to get away from us; This 
girl still does the simplest tests, those of four or five years for 
instance ; but she will not do those of seven or eight years although 
she is capable of doing them; consequently her ill humor pro- 
duces an apparent lowering of her level. Another example. We 
recall a melancholy patient who, at the moment of our examina- 
tion, was a prey to a violent moral affliction; we were able, how- 
ever, to distract her from it for a few moments and she consented 
to reply to some simple tests; but as we passed to more difficult 
tests she had more trouble and finally ended in failure; a week 
later when the crisis of her attack was over we saw her again and 
when we measured her intellectual level we were surprised to find 
it higher. The hysterical attack of this melancholia patient has 
then produced the same result as the ill humor of the imbecile, an 
apparent lowering of the level. The result comes from a dy- 
namic action, an inhibition. Among general paralytics the action 
is of a different nature; it is not temporary, but permanent; it is 
not suspended but destructive since they are incurable. But 
setting aside these differences the law remains the same and this 



270 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

law may be expressed in the following manner. When some dis- 
turbance occurs in the mental functioning, either under the in- 
fluence of ill humor or chagrin, or the material process of decay, 
this trouble manifests itself by an impossibility of solving the 
more complicated problems while the simpler problems still re- 
main attainable. 

Starting from this point it is easy to understand what takes place 
when a dement begins his ravings; the fabrication of his delirium 
implies that a certain intellectual activity sets the wheels of his 
machine in motion, but this activity is counteracted by inertia 
and the subject remains incapable of solving complicated problems; 
however, under the influence of this spur he will produce very simple 
intellectual results ; for example, he will follow elementary associa- 
tions of ideas, he will always discuss the same projects, repeat the 
same words and the same sentences. His intelligence is, as it 
were, divided into two parts; there is inertia for all that is com- 
plicated and on the contrary superactivity for all that is easy.^ 

* Let us prevent any misunderstanding; in speaking of functional inertia 
we study the symptoms only from the psychological point of view and 
without being unaware that these may be caused by anatomical lesions. 
We might be misunderstood, for in the habitual clinical language the 
troubles called functional are the troubles where there are no observable 
anatomical lesions. Also to avoid any misunderstanding we have employed 
the terms lack of functioning rather than those of functional disturbances. 
But after these explanations there can remain no doubt as to the meaning 
of the words which we have employed. 



III. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO NOTIONS OF 
FUNCTIONING AND OF DEVELOPMENT 

1. The mentality of the dement compared with that of 
THE DEFECTIVE. This chapter is a logical and necessary supple- 
ment to the preceding. We are attempting to introduce into 
psychology a new idea, a distinction not previously made or 
only verbally made between the functioning of the intelligence 
and the development of the intelligence.^ 

The problem would indeed be very difficult to solve if it were 
put in abstract terms; fortunately for us we can materialize it in 
our own patients. In the pages which follow it will suffice for 
us to demonstrate the psychological difference between the de- 
ment and the imbecile because, as we see it, the chief lack of the 
dement is in intellectual functioning and of the imbecile is in 
intellectual development. 

It is evidently necessary to distrust appearances and particu- 
larly to discern the true value of the symptoms. All that we have 
described as disturbances of functioning appears trivial enough and 
even so general that it seems impossible to imagine anything else 
as intellectual disturbances through defect. In the first place 
have we not all of us experienced these various disturbances? 
Who is there among us who, distracted or fatigued, has not ex- 

' We exaggerate perhaps when we say in the text that, up to the present 
time, no alienist has contrasted the lack of functioning of the intelligence 
and the lack of development. These expressions are not new. Recently 
an alienist remarked nearly the following: that which is a loss or an im- 
poverishment in a dement is a lack of acquisition and of development with 
born defectives. Furthermore this terminology only gives a clear expres- 
sion to ideas already very ancient and very reasonable as to the relation 
between mental defect and dementia; but it does not go farther than the 
metaphor which sees in the defective a person born poor never having 
acquired anything, and in the dement, a rich person who has lost his 
possessions and who is consequently impoverished. Under our pen these 
expressions acquire a new sense, because they are the result of observations 
and experiments which we reproduce in detail, and which show with pre- 
cision the difference between functioning and development. 

271 



272 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

perienced those states where one passes over words in writing, 
where one feels a proper name escaping him at the moment of a 
pressing need to speak it, or where one fails to grasp the meaning 
of a sentence which he hears, where one makes errors of addition or 
loses himself in a problem? This is very common. But there is 
even a stronger objection. Do we not encounter among the im- 
beciles themselves these same troubles of evocation which we have 
analysed among general paralytics? Imbeciles also have difficulty 
in acting quickly, in counting backward, and are embarrassed by a 
problem ; they also make at times incongruous replies, and are even 
guilty of greffage (grafting). 

There is a certain test of an essentially functional nature, the 
arrangement of weights, which presents so much difficulty for 
general paralytics that one would be tempted to recommend it to 
practitioners as a test to detect slight cases of insanity or its be- 
ginnings, which would be very useful indeed in these cases, but 
when one tries this test oij imbeciles they also fail equally with 
dements. Therefore, since this is true, we are certainly going to 
be asked what clear, palpable, evident difference could be given 
between the imbecile and the dement, and how could this differ- 
ence enable us to understand the distinction which we propose 
to estabhsh between intellectual development and intellectual 
functioning? 

A preliminary remark is necessary to the effect that the reason 
a general paralytic fails in a test is not the same as for an imbecile. 
The practical result is the same; it is failure but the cause is dif- 
ferent. Thus when an imbecile fails to name the colors correctly, 
when he calls red, blue and yellow, green, it is generally because 
he does not know the names of the colors, or because he knows 
then insufficiently and his n'importequisme is the result of his 
ignorance. With a dement we shall have the same errors of nam- 
ing, but the subjects knows the names of the colors very well and 
his errors are made not because of his ignorance but in spite of his 
knowledge. The same is true in naming cards; the errors of the 
imbecile are those of ignorance; those of a paralytic dement can 
not be explained by ignorance because by exciting him, by urg- 
ing him forcibly, we can succeed in making him name them cor- 
rectly. In the same way when an imbecile fails in counting cor- 
rectly a small sum of money, it is either because he does not know 
the series of figures or because he does not know how to apply 



MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 273 

them ; it is always ignorance under one form or another. Our de- 
ment on the contrary knows how to count but in spite of his 
knowledge he becomes confused. 

Is the difference which we attempt to bring out between these 
two mental states after all very important? Perhaps it will be 
thought not. It can be summed up in the contrast between 
knowledge and power. But it may be said this difference exists 
among all of us; knowledge is a great circle and power is a very 
much smaller circle which is inscribed within the other. In less 
metaphysical terms we always know much more than we have 
power to perform. A child must thoroughly know the rule of the 
agreement of participles in order to apply it easily ; and yet many 
years may pass during which he has been able to recite the rule 
glibly while all the time making a host of errors of agreement 
when writing. We are all children in this respect. In its appli- 
cation we are always inferior to the lesson which we have learned 
and which we can recite. 

We reply to this objection that it is true, only there is an im- 
portant difference of degree which we must take into account. 
If the distance between knowledge and power is great for all of us, 
it becomes enormous in general paralytics because they are hardly 
able to perform the hundredth part of what they know. A case 
in point, previously reported at length, is that of the patient to 
whom it was necessary to repeat six times in succession, using dif- 
ferent terms each time, the mechanism of the act of counting 
backwards. And yet she knew how to count backwards as the 
event fully proved. 

2. Two PRACTICAL CHARACTERISTICS BY WHICH TO DISTINGUISH 
THE MENTAL DEFECTIVE FROM THE DEMENT. From this point of 

view, two practical signs result whose use we recommend in the 
clinic in order to make the distinction between the mentality of a 
defective and that of a general paralytic. 

In the first place, that which distingushes the ignorance of the 
imbecile from the functional inertia of the dement is that with the 
latter the failures and the errors have a remarkable degree of 
inconsistence, which indicates disturbances, accidents, while the 
negative results of the imbecile present on the contrary consid- 
erable consistency, something which is not a disturbance but is the 
expression of the limit of his mind. In fact we have seen certain 
dements fail before some difficulty and five minutes later triumph 



274 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



over it brilliantly. It is the same for their disturbances of articu- 
lation. Give them a word difficult to pronounce, they fail; then 
at a moment when one expects it least they pronounce it without 
difficulty. From this come many surprises. We wish to demon- 
strate that a certain general paralytic always errs in counting 
money. He is asked to count twenty sous, and this time he does 
so correctly, without a single mistake. This is quite embarrass- 
ing for a demonstration. In a general way one can hardly foresee 
how such a one is going to conduct himself. 




FIG. 22. MME. SOLAS. GENERAL PARALYTIC. 



The second distinctive sign between the mentality of an imbecile 
and that of a general paralytic is furnished by the consideration of 
the intellectual level. It is in fact by relation to their level that 
one must judge of the importance of the phenomena of deficiency 
which they present. The errors committed by an imbecile are not 
surprising since his intelligence is so limited. On the contrary the 



MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 275 

errors of a paralytic are at variance with his level. Thus Albert, 
an imbecile of five years, can not correctly name the colors; that 
is not surprising for it belongs to a child of five years; we have 
seen the paralytic. Colon, formerly a house-painter, call blue 
green, and yellow blue; these are errors which surprise us be- 
cause Colon has a level of ten years; the error under these condi- 
tions is not justified by the level; it has an unusual character. 

We could give here numerous examples of failures of general 
paralytics which have this striking character of being out of rela- 
tion to their level, but we prefer to limit ourselves to one particu- 
cal case and develop it fully. Here is the history of a patient 
whose intellectual level is still good and nevertheless what diffi- 
culties of functioning are perceived when she is closely examined! 

Madame Solas is a woman of forty-five years who has a calm, 
serene, almost indifferent aspect. Her physiognomy is but slightly 
expressive. Her voice is weak, her gestures slow. Her speech 
presents the peculiar difficulties of articulation which are char- 
acteristic of general paralysis. To the questions asked her she 
replies with exactitude, with good sense, often even with witti- 
cisms; this indicates that the intelligence has held itself well; 
one would almost have the feeling that she is normal if precise 
tests did not prove her decay. We will let her talk a little. 

Q. What is your name? 

A. Blanche Gaudis. 

Q. And your first name? 

A. Blanche Solas Blanche. (She spells her first name.) 

Q. And your age? 

A. Forty. I shall be forty-five the 18th of February forty-four at 

least. I am stupid. 

Q. Why? 

A. I was born in 66. (If she was born in 66, as it is now 1907, she would 
be forty-one. Already we have difficulties and errors of evocation.) 

Q. Is it old or young to be forty-four years old? 

A. What is that, monsieur? 

A little psychic deafness. 

Q. The question is repeated. 

A. Oh, I don't know, it is enough for me. 

Q. Would you like to be seventy-five? 

A. Oh no! too old. What for? I couldn't. 

Q. What couldn't you? 

A. I could not be that old. I couldn't endure it. 

Q. Yqu would rather be dead? 

A. Oh! surely. 



276 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. Were you young once? 

A. (With a smile) Oh! I suppose like everyone else. 

Here we have intelligent reflection. 

Q. How old is one at twenty? 

A. At twenty years? Twenty years. (The smile continues.) 

Q. What has been your profession? 

A. Embroiderer. 

Q. How much does one earn at that trade? 

A. I earned a living once. 

Q. And now? 

A. Now it is lost. Like all the rest. 

Q. But how much money could you make at your trade of embroidery? 

A. Three or four francs. 

Q. By the day or the week? 

A. By the day. 

Q. How much did that make a week, three francs a day? 

A. That made eighteen francs a week. 

All this was correct. 

Q. Were you married? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. What does your husband do? 

A. He is dead. I am a widow. 

Q. What did he do when living? 

A. A hatter. (Chapelier.) 

Q. He built chapels (chapelles) then? 

A. A hatter I say! hats! You are making fun of me. 

Q. No, I am a butcher, so I understand nothing about hats. 

A. Well, its different. 

Q. Your husband's name? 

A. Peau. 

Q. Did you have any children? 

A. No, sir, I never had any. 

Q. They are dead? 

A. Yes, sir, they were dead when born. 

Q. You have had two? 

A. Ah! I only had one. 

Q. What is the year we are in now? 

-4. I do not know, I hardly know how I live. 

Q. Think! 

A. Ah! I know nothing. I have no memory. (She makes no efifort 
to remember; it is very singular that with the succession of reasonable 
answers which she had just given, she confesses to such a lack of orienta- 
tion.) 

Q. You have no memory? 

A. None whatever. 

Q. Why do you say that? 

A. Because I see it, monsieur. I have noticed it more than onee. I 
have none at all. 



MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 277 

Q. What is it you forget? 
A. Everything. 
Q. Give an example. 

A. For instance, my pocketbook. I would leave it on the table. Ten 
seconds later I would have forgotten where it was. 
Q. And what else do you forget? 
A. (With irony) Well, my head on my shoulders. 
Q. You have lost much money in that way? 
A. No, because some one took care of it for me. 

These are characteristic disturbances of the memory, of evoca- 
tion. They are conscious. The patient perceives them and 
passes judgment on herself. 

Q. Your mother, is she younger than you? 

A. No. 

Q. Is she older? 

A. She is sixty years old. 

Q. Can a mother be younger than her daughter? 

A. It is comprehensible. (She did not understand the question, and 
doubtless relied upon the reasonable tone which we employed in question- 
ing her.) 

Q. But can a daughter be older? 

A. Ah! no! 

The judgment is good. 

Q. So you do not know the year? 

^. Oh! faith, yes, we are in the year '99. 

Q. Is it winter or summer? 

A. It is summer. 

Q. What month? 

A. June. 

This is nearly correct. 

Q. Name the months of the year. 

A. (She names them correctly.) 

Q. That makes how many? 

A. Oh, I don't know. 

Q. Think again! how many months are there in a year? 

A. 12. 

Note this inertia; she knows but does not attempt to reply. 

Q. Why are you here? 

A. To take care of my health. 

Q. In what way? 

A. My nerves. 

Q. Are you satisfied here? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. But there are crazy people here? 

A. I do not believe it. There are some, but I am not crazy, not I. 



278 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. So it does not annoy you to be with crazy people? 

A. Tliat annoys me because I am very impressionable. (She speaks 
indistinctly.) I do not speak well. 
• Q. Still you are satisfied here? 

A. Yes, monsieur, because I hope that you will cure me. 

Q. What was your illness? 

A. It was St. Vitus's dance, monsieur. I had it as a child from a fright. 

Q. So? 

A. Always impressionable. At the least thing, I cry without being 
able to stop. It is the same with laughing. 

On the whole she is indifferent to her confinement, and there is a 
curious contrast between this indifference and this emotivity. In 
reahty everything is ahke to her; nevertheless she is easily affected, 
she weeps or she laughs at nothing. This seems contradictory, 
But in the main her tears and smiles are very superficial. This 
mental state is the rule with general paralytics. 

She is very modest in appearance. Let us see if she has some 
vanity. 

Q. You have nevertheless some special talents? 

A. Oh! no, monsieur, I have none. 

Q. You are not an ordinary woman? 

A. Surely not. 

Q. You were not bad looking once? 

A. In my time, no. 

Q. You were pretty? 

A. I had like all young girls, la beautS du diable — youth. 

Q. But something of it remains? 

A. I don't know. For all that I could do without it! 

Judgment very good. We did not succeed in. arousing the least 
feeling of self-importance. 

Here then is the portrait of Madame Solas. All her replies 
harmonize and are in good order; the mentality does not seem to 
be at all in ruins. In precise tests she shows the keenness of her 
intelligence. We ask her to define some words. Certain of her 
definitions are charming. 

Q. What is a fork? 

A. It is what goes with the spoon. 

Q. What is a mother? 

A. That is the best of all, ah! 

Q. Justice? 

A. Ah! it is great; and injustice, it is greater still. 

A scholar would not disavow such replies. 



MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 279 

Her manner of welcoming pleasantries indicates a clear mind. 

Q. Is snow sometimes red? 

A. Oh! no, it is white. I have never seen it (red) myself. 

Q. What was the color of the white horse of Henry IV? 

A. (Laugh.) What do you ask now, I do not remember, I never saw it. 

Q. But what is there absurd in my question? 

A. (Laughing.) Because it was red. 

This was sufficient to give an idea of the intellectual level of 
Madame Solas. She is evidently not an imbecile nor even a moron. 
It is in relation to this mental level that we must judge her disturb- 
ances of evocation; these disclose a weakness that is truly aston- 
ishing. Thus she cannot count backwards; she says "20, 17, 19, 
15" and can go no farther. We try again another day but with 
no better results. In the same way, although she knows how to 
count, she makes continual mistakes in counting money or pins. 
She counts 9 pins where there are only 8. A small sum of 19 
sous (composed of a 50-centime piece, 4 two-sou pieces, and a 1-sou 
piece) is too difficult for her; the first time she counts 14 sous and 
the second 20 sous. 

Another example. Several additions of two numbers of two 
figures each are proposed to her in writing; the pen is put in her 
hand and she is told to add. She is willing, but note closely how 
she performs the operation. 

That it may be well understood we give the details; in the first 
addition she must add 59 to 73; the two numbers are placed one 
below the other, the line drawn and thus the way made clear. 
The patient places the figure 2 under the first column, she has 
therefore correctly added 9 and 3, finding 12, placing 2, but she 
must carry the 1 ; now she must add 5 and 7 and add the 1 carried 
over. This embarrasses her. She prefers not to attempt it and 
passes to the second addition. There she finds 52 to be added to 
79; she adds the first column 2 and 9 and finds 11, writes 1; but 
there is here also 1 to carry over; a new difficulty; she prefers to 
leave this also and pass to the next addition; here a similar diffi- 
culty has been arranged, because the numbers were chosen so 
that there would always be something to carry; she gives this up 
after adding the first column and passes to the fourth example 
which meets the same fate as the other. Thus we find her four 
times in succession passing the difficulty by. One can therefore 
attribute to her this rule of conduct: "Nothing is impossible to 
man; that which he cannot do he leaves." 



280 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Her reaction times to sound — the last detail which we cite — are 
unusually long. She has apparently understood how she must re- 
spond but she reacts with extreme slowness; we have each time 
done our best to encourage her to go more quickly; her reaction 
times are about 50 one-hundredths of a second, while with a nor- 
mal they are 12 one-hundredths; and when she tries to hasten the 
movement sJie only gives anticipated reactions. In this respect 
she is altogether inferior to a certain imbecile named Albert of 
whom we have elsewhere spoken; Albert has more difficulty in 
understanding the experiment but when it is understood his reac- 
tions are quicker and better. 

Thus, as has been clearly shown, the disturbances of function- 
ing which Madame Solas presents do not belong to her level; 
they are, so to speak, unworthy of her intelligence ; this is one of the 
characteristics which these disturbances present among general 
paralytics and thus provide a means of distinguishing the failures 
and blunders to which imbeciles are hable. 

3. Residues. We must attempt to specify to some extent what 
constitutes the contrast which exists between certain defective 
replies of general paralytics and their level, which is higher or 
appears to be higher than their replies. The question is very com- 
plicated in itself and it is further obscured by all that we know of 
the nature of residues. We must remember that the dement 
differs from the imbecile by having a past of normal intelligence; 
and consequently we should expect that instruction and the varied 
information acquired by the dement would leave some traces in 
his conversation which would not accord with his present intelli- 
gence. These evidences of an earlier condition superior to the 
present are what we call residues. Alienists who question these 
patients are on the watch for residues which may serve to bring to 
light the differences which we note between the imbecile and the 
dement. Perhaps it will be thought that it is to the presence of 
numerous residues that we owe the contrast which we note among 
dements between their level and some of their replies. 

This opinion contains indeed a part of the truth; but it must not 
be exaggerated; or rather we must take into account the quality 
of the facts which may survive from the earlier epoch. 

We distinguish three elements. 

1. Scholastic knowledge. 



RESIDUES 281 

2. General knowledge of practical life. 

3. The form of verbal replies from the point of view of gram- 
mar and of the vocabulary. 

1. Scholastic knowledge is certainly most lacking among de- 
ments. We have taken the pains to study their reading, writing 
and arithmetic, not with any foregone conclusions, which unfortu- 
nately is too often done and which signifies nothing, but by em- 
ploying two distinct known quantities; we first take their level of 
intelligence by means of our measuring scale; afterwards, with 
some very precise tests of instruction arranged by our collabora- 
tor M. Vaney, we examine these patients to see if they are equal 
in reading, writing and arithmetic to normal children of the same 
level. ^ 

We expected that these tests would enable us to discover many 
residues. Our error was great. 

It is in reading that they acquit themselves the best. Out of 
seven patients, five read as well as would be expected from their 
level; two are a year behind; one is two years ahead, a very ex- 
ceptional fact; this is Beauchamp, the poor teacher who has 
fallen to the level of five years; in spite of her profound decay 
she can still read as one reads at seven years. But note care- 
fully that what is best retained among these subjects is reading 
as an exercise of articulation but without the understanding of 
what they read. Thus we encounter several of these dements 
who read the selection correctly and fluently enough, but who can 
tell almost nothing of what they read; they are very inferior to 
normal children who read less fluently and less correctly than 
they, but who can retain many facts after the reading is over. 

^ Since at the present time we are working for the clinic we think it 
profitable to reproduce the table of tests serving as a measure of the degree 
of instruction, in order that the clinician may have at hand all that is 
necessary for him to apply this measure. The table that we give has been 
devised by M. Vaney; we have already published it in our book Enfants 
Anormaux.* 

* Editor's Note: English translation Feeble-Minded Children. Pub- 
lished by Longmans, Green & Co., NeAv York. 



282 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



Reference Table of Pedagogical Examination 





DEGREES OP 
READING 


ARITHMETIC 

TYPE PROBLEMS TO 

DICTATE 


ORTHOGRAPHY 


AGE OP THE CHILDREN 


**- fefl 1 


Type sentence 
to dictate 


From 6 to 7 years 


Syllabic 


From 19 apples 
if one takes 6 ap- 
ples how many will 
remain? 


16 




From 7 to 8 years 


Hesitating 


Subtract 8 sous from 
59 sous. 


11 




From 8 to 9 years 


Hesitating 


From a case of 604 


8 






fluent 


oranges 58 are 
sold. How many 
remain? 




"The pret- 
ty little 
girls stud- 
ied the 










From 9 to 10 years 


Fluent 


It requires 7 meters 
to make a dress. 
How many dresses 
could be made with 
89 meters and what 
would be the 
length of the rem- 
nant? 


6 


flowers 
which they 
g a t h e red 
y e s t e r- 
day" 


From 10 to 


Fluent-ex- 


A workman earns 250 


4 




11 years 


pressive 


francs in the 
month of February 
which has 28 days. 
He spends 195 
francs. How much 
did he save a day? 







Writing from dictation, judged by the orthography, is always 
faulty. The number of errors of spelling and grammar is not at 
all that of children of the same level; there is a retardation of at 
least a year and much indulgence is required to record only this dif- 
ference; it is only by disregarding the numerous lapses which they 
commit in writing. 

The retardation is still more accentuated in arithmetic; we have 
studied this by means of the extremely simple problems of the 
table of M. Vaney; the problem of the apples is a limit very rarely 



RESIDUES 283 

attained. Out of five patients studied with the greatest care we 
observed in one a retardation of one year, in two a retardation of 
two years, and in two a retardation of three years. Thus Colon, 
who has the level of ten years, is absorbed for a minute and a half 
in solving the problem, "If I have 17 apples and I eat 8 of them, 
how many are left?" And he finds 8 apples. 

The conclusion to be drawn from all this is that, if we employ 
the method which we have just indicated and which consists in 
first fixing the intellectual level by a group of tests and then com- 
paring the scholastic knowledge of the dement with that which 
normally belongs to his intellectual level, we find a marked re- 
tardation especially for scholastic problems. This is therefore the 
exact opposite of residues. Perhaps some one will object to our 
manner of proceeding; and, while admitting that it is superior to 
the empirical method of certain alienists, who, struck by the 
cleverness of a reply, say from intuition "There is a residue!" 
will perhaps object that our procedure is conventional and conse- 
quently artificial. Everything depends, he will say to us, upon the 
way in which you fix the level; if for example you fix it by means 
of the remnants of instruction that are observed among the pa- 
tients, all the other tests would be residues; indeed, if a dement is 
two years retarded in arithmetic, and if you fix his level by that 
test alone, the result would be that he is advanced for a host of 
other tests. That is true, only we believe that such a convention 
would be open to criticism; it seems to us decidedly preferable to 
fix the level by a group of tests, by the greatest possible number of 
tests, and by those as varied as possible; this is what we have done 
and in so far as we are right in so doing we maintain that the 
instruction in reading, writing or arithmetic would never consti- 
tute a residue. 

And now one last remark; if reading is better preserved than 
writing from dictation, and this again better preserved than arith- 
metic, it is because it contains a greater part of automatic activity. 
We have noted this singular fact that a dement may read as 
easily and as fluently as a child of the same level, but he does not 
understand nor explain his reading nearly so well; it is the differ- 
ence between an automatic memory and an expression of intelli- 
gence. These patients are weak in arithmetic because we demand 
of them the solution of problems, that is to say an exercise of the 
judgment and not of the automatic memory. By taking another 



284 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 



direction and demanding more of their automatic life we should 
have different results. Thus, certain dements still know their 
multiplication tables very well; but when memory fails and they 
try to conceal this lack the errors they make are fantastic. 
Samse, seven year level, replies thus to our questions. 



QUESTIONS 


ANSWERS 


QUESTIONS 


ANSWEES 


2 and 2? 

3 and 3? 
5 and 4? 
9 and 17? 


4 

6 

9 

14 


12 and 12? 

12 and 13? 

13 and 12? 


24 
16 
15 



The reply 12 and 12 makes 24 is automatism; while the reply 
12 and 13 makes 16 is an expression of intelligence in which the 
subject remembers nothing; this is evidence of what she does when 
automatism fails her. 

Holeg, level of nine years, shows the same contrast in a still 
more obvious manner. 



QUESTIONS 


ANSWERS 


TIME 




















seconds 


3 times 3? 








9 












6 times 6? 








36 












5 times 7? 








35 










2 


8 times 7? 








42 










2 


7 times 9? 








36 










2 


7 times 9? 








63 










3 


8 times 5? 








40 










U 


3 times 9? 








27 










2 


8 times 8? 








48 










2 


8 times 8? 








16 










2 


No! 8 times 8? 








48 










2 


No! 8 times 8? 








16 












No! 








8 and 8 are 


16 










But 8 times 8? 








48 












No! 








What? 












8 times 8? 


Oh— 4 times 8- 


-8 and 8—16 and 8- 


-24 and 8- 


-32 




And then? 


8 and 8- 


-16 and— 13 and 8- 


-24— and 8- 


-32 and 






8- 


-12 and 8- 


-50 












No, not 50! 








52 













RESIDUES 285 

The example is clear. Having lost the memory of 8 X 8 = 64 
this patient cannot multiply 8 times 8 and when he tries to do so 
to repair his failure of memory he commits enormous errors. 
Here is a curious contrast between automatism and an expression 
of the intelligence. We terminate therefore this part of our work 
with the conclusion that their automatism when it is retained is 
always above their intelligence. 

2. The knowledge of practical life has given rise to the same 
illusion; to our surprise, we confess, we have not found residues 
here or indeed but rarely ; and the proof of this is that the dement 
compared to an imbecile or to a moron of the same level has no 
greater general knowledge. 

We cite the example of a woman Vigne, who has a level of nine 
years, and in whom one might expect the conservation of a mass 
of ideas. She has become very ignorant and does not know 
how to reply even when asked very easy questions of practical 
life. 

Q. Where were you born? 

A. At Strasbourg. 

Q. What is your fatherland? 

A. I am French. 

Q. What is the capital of France? 

A. (She limits herself to sticking out her tongue. She does not even 
know the capital of France. Extraordinary ignorance!) 

Q. What is the capital of France? 

A. I do not know. 

Q. What is it you do not know? (Because we are wondering if she under- 
stood the question.) 

A. The capital of France. 

Q. And the government of France, what is it? 

A. You ask me too much. 

Q. Is it a kingdom, a republic, an empire? 

A. You ask me too much. 

Q. Is there a king in France? 

A. No. 

Q. An Emperor? 

A. Yes. 

Q. What is his name? 

^. I do not know. 

Q. What river flows through Paris? 

A. The Seine. There is a place where it is low. 

Q. Did you know Carnot? 

A. I have seen him in a book. 



286 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. How did he die? 

A. I have seen his tomb in a book. 

Q. Yes? How did he die? 

A. I do not know. 

Q. And Victor Hugo was 

A. Victor Hugo is also dead. 
Q. But who was he? 

A. Victor Hugo was Ah, I forget. 

Q. Did you know Pasteur? 

A. A pastor, yes. 

Q. What did you know of Pasteur? 

A. A pastor is a man who is intelligent. 

Q. Have you ever heard of Louis XIV? 

A. I knew Louis XIV, but 

Q. Charlemagne? 
A. Yes. 

Q. Who was Charlemagne? 

A. An interesting man. I ought to know much about him; I have read 
that in books. 

But where are her school memories? Where are the snows of 
last year? 

Q. What is the capital of Italy? 

A. That I don't know. 

Q. What is the Pope? 

A. The Pope is the king of all the world. 

She lived five years in Hyeres, her husband worked at the Seyne. 

We ask her. 

Q. What is the sea called at Toulon? 

A. There is a sea at Toulon, more or less high; sometimes it overflows, 
and destroys the houses; it goes all the way to Hyeres. 

Q. But what is it called, the sea that bathes Toulon? 

A. The sea of Toulon. 

Let us question her further. 

Q. How much does it cost to send a letter from Paris to Marseilles? 

A. Oh! I never sent a letter from Paris to Marseilles. 

Q. And from Paris to Toulon, how much does that cost? 

A. A letter from Paris to Toulon does not cost much, not more than 5 
sous. 

Q. How many minutes in an hour? 

A. 12. 

Q. How many days in the year? 

A. There are thirty days in a month. 

Q. But in a year? 

A. Oh, I would have to count that. (She recites the months.) 

Q. That makes? 

A. 10 and 3, 13 months, isn't it? 

Q. But how many days? 



RESIDUES 287 

A. Ah — I'd have to count that. I'd have to count by 30. 
We deem it unnecessary to make her perform this calculation. 

She can no longer recite to the end, "Our Father who art in 
heaven." Nevertheless, she is not absolutely ignorant; she knows 
what a dozen eggs cost, a pound of lard, a cutlet, and also where 
wine and milk come from; she describes fairly well how one fries 
an egg. 

When one realizes that for thirty years she lived the social life 
of the world, one can judge of the actual poverty of her ideas. 
She has no more memories than a moron, for instance Griffon, 
whose history we have given in a previous article upon the intel- 
ligence of imbeciles (page 120). In order to be able to judge the 
value of the practical knowledge of dements we must compare 
them with imbeciles or morons and not with children of the same 
level; because imbeciles like dements have had a long past life 
and in consequence have had an experience which is lacking in 
children. 

3. The form of verbal replies. If residues of memories 
do not exist, one must not conclude therefore that all residues 
are absent in the psychic life of dements; one could not draw 
such a conclusion because it would be directly contrary to clini- 
cal experience. Every experienced clinician when in the presence 
of a dement has had the impression that his mentality is not the 
same as that of a moron, that it is richer, nobler, more impreg- 
nated with traces of a previous normal life. This impression 
cannot be ignored; since it rests upon long experience it must con- 
tain some truth. After much reflection we have finally reached 
the following conclusion. Residues certainly exist among dements 
and they contribute to the production of the contrast, which we 
have so strongly insisted upon, between their lapses and their 
level, but we must not search for them where they do not exist. 
They never result from an expression of the intelligence consist- 
ing for instance in making a clever remark or in expressing a 
judicious judgment or, still less, in solving a problem; nor do 
they consist in conscious memories whose application would 
demand some intelligence; they consist in the shade of expression 
and gesture, the form of language, the turn of a phase, the choice 
of words which are in harmony with a rather high intelligence 
which today is lost. As a result of this we, the observers, meet 
with a host of slight perceptions more or less conscious, often 
badly confused, which reveal the contrast between what the 



288 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

dement actually is and what he once was. We could cite cer- 
tain sentences of a dement the nobility of which has the odor 
of a normal life and of which an imbecile would be incapable. 
It is not then by the content of their replies that the dements 
prove that they have residues, it is rather by the form, so far at 
least as one is able to separate the word from the thought because 
the whole is bound together. In general a common thought 
is not clothed in noble words. 

Thus Beauchamp, who has the level of five years, when asked 
the trade of her husband cannot surpass the childish and im- 
becile formula he works. But a few seconds later she gives to 
another question this remarkable reply, "I do not know what 
it is that you ivish me to say." It is clear that no child of five 
years unless it were very precocious would ever construct sen- 
tences in so complicated a manner. 

Another dement, generally very taciturn, the one who was 
taken by an expert alienist for an imbecile, replied to the ques- 
tion, "Are you beautiful or ugly?" — ''You see very well how I am!" 
And another time she said to us, speaking of her past, "I was 
very beautiful, I assure you." This form of language is superior 
to her level which is only that of four years. 

Samse, a paralytic of the level of seven years, also makes 
reflections whose verbalism is quite superior. 

Q. You have not received any treatment? 

A. Oh, no, only I take wine, good wine that the doctor has ordered for me. 
So when I leave here, I shall go and buy a quart, because it is good for me. 
It comes a little dear, but no matter! When one needs care! 

We have put in italics whatever in her reply has seemed to 
us somewhat superior, the onlys, the ihats, the whens, these words 
are as it were the aristocracies of language. 

Vigne, whose level is nine years, tries to arrange five boxes 
in the order of their weight and during the task makes reflections 
that are worthy of note. "They seem to be all of the same weight. 

Ah! no this one They must be nearly equal. / do not 

believe that I am much mistaken. But it is quite difficult inasmuch 
as the difference is slight, especially weighing them thus in the 
hand." Again we put in italics what seems to us of a style superior 
to her level. 

Philomene, of the nine year level, abounds in sentences which 
are striking because of their elegance. Speaking of her past 



DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 289 

existence she says, "It is quite a romance, my life!" Describing 
a picture which represents an old man seated on a bench she says, 
"Oh! that white beard; how beautiful it is, how respectable!" 
After reading for us the story of a fire started through carelessness 
she said, "I cannot understand why anyone should not take 
more precaution than that." Another time, after having de- 
scribed with much boasting the talent she had for dressing the 
hair and for combing out the tangles she said, "And gentle above 
everything else with so much care and gentleness! Separate 
the hairs almost one by one with infinite care without annoying 
the person, etc." 

Perrot, another woman of the level of nine years of whom we 
ask what is charity, replies, "What is it that you wish me to say? 
It seems to me that any one who exercises charity does well, 
because there are so many unfortunates! You should exercise 
it too, — and look after some poor people." When we have her 
count some sous on the edge of the table she makes this superior 
reflection, "This is really child's play!" 

After these examples we can do no more than give our feeling 
because we have not made the necessary studies of the evolu- 
tion of language which would permit us to affirm the age to 
which each grammatical form corresponds. We shall supply this 
lack when we are able.* For the moment we must be content 
with saying that in the thoughts, the locutions, the choice of 
words and the syntax of paral3rtic dements we find very many 
residues, which consist especially in automatic memories; they 
are skeletons from which the conscious life has withdrawn. With 
this point which presents some practical interest we conclude 
by saying that the inertia of functioning which we observe in 
general paraljrtics is especially recognized by the contrast which 
exists between their failures and their intellectual level in so far 
as one can accurately measure it; and, furthermore, their intel- 
lectual level appears to be higher than it really is because of the 
presence of residues, which consist in the verbal form of their 
replies rather than in the content. 

4. Insufpiciency of development opposed to insuffi- 
ciency OF functioning. It remains for us now to go a little 

* It is supplied. One of us has just finished a study on the language of 
children (A. Binet). 



290 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

farther and having explained what a disturbance of functioning 
is, to contrast it with a lack of development. For this we shall 
speak mainly of imbeciles. Let us employ first of all some 
metaphors. 

Let us take a watch. In the mechanism of a watch there are 
two things to consider: first, its degree of complexity; a certain 
watch indicates only the hour, another indicates the hours and 
minutes, another adds to this the seconds; second, we must 
consider the functioning of the watch, that is to say the regularity 
of its movement, its rapidity, the length of time it can go without 
being wound up, etc. It is this distinction, which is so clear 
for a watch or any piece of mechanism, that we are attempting 
to apply to an intelligence, because it seems to us to be a very 
convenient illustration by which to express the essential difference 
which exists between an imbecile and a general paralytic, and 
the numerous points in which the two resemble each other. The 
imbecile has an intelligence but slightly developed; it is, as it 
were, a rudimentary watch which indicates only the hours, but, 
so far as it goes, this intelligence functions well; every time this 
intelligence fails before a problem it is through lack of develop- 
ment. On the contrary, with the general paral3rtic it is always 
the functioning that is at fault, that is to say the intellectual 
work. Theoretically, this dement must be considered as an 
intelligent man who can no longer use his intelligence and whose 
intelligence betrays him at every moment. 

From this point of view, the distinction between the imbe- 
cile and the dement is therefore very clear. But exactly what is 
the development of the intelligence? In what does it consist? 
Certainly in many things; he would be very daring who tried 
to define such a complexity with a single word. But we can 
state what seems to be the most important trait in all mental 
development and what seems on the contrary the accessory 
trait. In addition we may note the tendency to organization 
which is undeniably weaker in the child than in the adult ; witness 
the inconstancy of the desires, the caprices of ideas, the lack of 
continuity which we find in a young child. Follow in the street 
a little school boy going to school and compare the path he 
follows with that of an adult ; the adult goes more or less directly 
to his destination while the child takes a zigzag course which 
shows the insufficiency of his direction and control. Here then. 



DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 291 

in our opinion, is one of the traits of mental development; it 
produces a better and stronger organisation and consequently 
it is to be expected that young subjects, who are not yet com- 
pletely developed, should show signs of a weakness of organisa- 
tion; in this way they must of necessity slightly resemble general 
paralytics in whom the insufficiency of direction and control 
also manifests itself, but as a sign of disorganisation and not as 
the beginning of organisation. There is not, however, with 
the child any lack of evocation but rather lack of co5rdination, 
through the puUulation of ideas and of heteroclitic sentiments. 
But that which especially and essentially characterizes a men-' 
tal development is the process of differentiation. If one refers 
to our chapter upon the Scheme of Thought, which we have in- 
cluded in our more extensive study of the mental development 
of imbeciles^ he will find there the law formulated and described 
according to which a thought develops; it is by the progressive 
passing from the simple to the complex, from the indefinite to 
the definite, from the accessory to the essential, a progress thanks 
to which the thought adjusts itself better and better to its end. 
The development of intelligence manifests itself therefore in 
the quality of the states of consciousness. Of two states of 
consciousness that one is of superior quality which is less simple, 
less commonplace, less vague, less indeterminate, more definite, 
more rich, more special; or rather, to take a broader view, the 
superior state is that which adapts itself the best, the most com- 
pletely to its environment; but for the adaptation to be as per- 
fect as possible the thought must reflect at the same time that 
which is special and essential in the environment in which one 
acts. A curious experiment that we have often tried with children 
of all ages, adults of every social condition, imbeciles and morons 
of every level, and general paralytics of every degree of disor- 
ganisation shows admirably in what this development consists. 
We refer to the comments upon pictures. We place before an 
imbecile and a general paralytic a picture representing two old 
people in want, stranded upon a bench; one of them is an old man 
with a white beard and eyes closed; the other, a woman, is lean- 
ing against him. An imbecile is satisfied with the response, 
"/i is a man." A general paralytic, impressed no doubt by the 

« L'Annee Psychologique, Vol. XV, 1909, p. 122. 



292 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

head and beard of the man, makes this reflection, "One would 
say Victor Hugo." Who would not perceive the abyss between 
these two responses; the thought of the imbecile is almost in- 
determinate ; would apply quite as well, not to say quite as poorly 
to an immense number of different pictures. It would be well 
to recall here that we made a collection of some fifteen reproduc- 
tions of paintings which we showed to our imbeciles and for these 
pictures they have almost always made the same reply, "It is 

a man — Those are women That is again a man And 

then that is a woman, etc." It would be impossible for one to 
reproduce the picture from such commonplace indeterminate 
comments. On the contrary the reflection which compares 
the old man with the white beard to Victor Hugo is much more 
complex, much more special; it would apply only to a very small 
number of pictures. There is here the character of specialty 
which we consider one of the qualities of intellectual develop- 
ment. A second character is that of representing what is essen- 
tial in the reality. Here again the comments upon pictures 
furnish us with many examples. Many children looking at the 
pictures are struck by some insignificant detail; they designate 
first, for example, the branch of a tree instead of the active per- 
sons and thus subordinate the principal to the accessory, the 
whole to the part; in the same way dull intelligences take only 
the immediate appearance of the reality and neglect what they 
do not see but what is nevertheless of infinitely greater importance. 
Much might be said upon this subject. 

Combine these two qualities of the states of consciousness and 
we see that they assure an adjustment of each state of conscious- 
ness to its own end, that they thus make the theory of adapta- 
tion enter into an exact conception of intelligence, and that we 
arrive at a very clear and very satisfactory idea of intellectual 
development. 

In opposing thus the quality of the states of consciousness with 
their evocability^" we make a distinction between the develop- 

"* For those who are seeking some synthetic views, we recall that the 
quality of the states of consciousness or the development of the intelli- 
gence depends on two factors, invention and judgment; invention corre- 
sponds to the complexity of the states of consciousness and judgment to 
their exactness. But we have seen on other occasions that there are two 
principal intellectual types, the observational and the imaginative, which 



DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 293 

ment of the intelligence and its functioning, and at the same time 
between the mentality of the imbecile and that of the paralytic; 
the mentality of the imbecile is composed of simple states of 
consciousness which are evoked with normal facility; the men- 
tality of the paralytic is composed of states which are more 
complex but which have become difficult of evocation. ^^ 

5. For the clinic. We have thus examined our problem 
placing ourselves first at the theoretical point of view of the 
psychologist, then at the practical point of view of the physician. 
It is at this latter point of view that we again place ourselves 
to ask if the description we have made of the slight psychological 
signs of dementia^^ and the theories which we have drawn from, 
them have contributed to the diagnosis of dementia and how far. 

It would seem that we have reached a conclusion which, set- 
ting aside the difference of language, is equivalent to saying 
that the paralytic dement presents a weakening of the whole in- 
telligence; but this is also the conclusion, or to put it better, the 
quintessence of the classical theory. First let us say in what 
way we are in perfect accord with this theory, then we shall state 
how we believe we surpass it. 

In accordance with the classical theory we admit that the 

are distinguished by the predominance of the judgment or of the imagi- 
nation (see A. Binet Vtltude Experimentale de V Intelligence) . Thus all of 
those studies hold together and lend mutual support to one another. 

" It is important to define here the point to which we have arrived. 
Nearly all our study has been made in an oflBce through which the insane 
patients pass ; we have been able to study these patients only during brief 
sittings in a consultation room; we have smnmoned them there for certain 
tests of intelligence; we have not had the means of observing in them the 
spontaneous phenomena which occur in the life of the asylum and which 
are the manifestation of their emotivity and of their character. Conse- 
quently our analysis bears solely upon the functioning of their intelligence. 
In order to complete it other studies on their character would be neces- 
sary. We hope soon to have the opportunity of completing it in another 
hospital; and even at the present time we believe that we see the exact 
point where additions will be made ; but we are not willing to present any 
theory without sufficient records and hence, we prefer to postpone the 
exposition of our views. 

12 It is a fact that the slight psychological signs that we have described 
have been noted more or less by writers; only they present them in common- 
place inventory, without giving them any other connection than that of 
co-existence, while we have sought to classify them, to interpret them, 
and to make use of interpretation for perfecting their analysis. 



294 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

weakening of these patients is global in character; but if we admit 
it, it is because we have demonstrated it by very different means. 
For cUnicians the disturbance is global because it is manifested 
in all the functions, memory, attention, judgment, etc., by means 
of observations in detail but without connection one with an- 
other; and because one makes in a way an addition of all these 
disconnected observations and one sees that in the dement none 
of the faculties is spared, none functions normally. For us the 
disturbance is global, because we see that it results from a certain 
mode of functioning, always the same, which is found in the whole 
intellectual activity; for us it is an affair of psychological analysis 
and not an accumulation and a generalization of particular ob- 
servations; it is, in a word, because dements have a disturbance 
in evocation and because evocation is the basis of all intellectual 
work that these patients seem to be affected b}'' a general weaken- 
ing. It results from this that our interpretation is much more 
flexible than the classic ; it permits the conception of other forms 
of global dementia, but they will not be so in the same manner 
as paralytic dementia, dementias for example where the dif- 
ferent intellectual functionings are all affected but unequally 
in degree or differently in quality. It can thus be seen that we 
give to this expression of global a new sense. 

The same remarks can be made in regard to the term weak- 
ening. One believes that he understands this word and it seems 
precise and sufficient, until he takes the pains to analyse it. 
The analysis which results from the classical theory is extremely 
incomplete; by intellectual weakening of general paralytics we 
understand simply a group of errors of memory, of judgment, 
etc., but there are indeed errors of many sorts; those of general 
paralytics are not those of epileptics, not those of senile dements. 
It is true that we say that the errors of general paralytics indicate 
a demential level. But is this true? The errors of general para- 
lytics seem rather in contrast than in accord with their level of 
intelligence. When the patient Philippon, who has a level of 
nine years, cannot tell the date and we suggest to her, "It is 
perhaps the 50th" and she replies, "Perhaps it is," the error has 
not its raison d'etre in the demential level of her disease. Philip- 
pon is not so low grade since she still retains a level of nine years. 
We think the error can be explained by a defect of functioning 
and the absence of evocation; the number 50 has not evoked 



DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 295 

the precise and appropriate idea and consequently has not been 
judged. And it is this defect of functioning which characterises 
the errors of these patients. 

The novelty of our point of view in the use of the word weaken- 
ing can be very easily seen if one recalls the discussions that 
daily occur in cases where the diagnosis of general paralysis is 
doubtful. It seems for these authors that the intelhgence is 
a quantity and that the weakening is only a diminution of this 
quantity. Thus one often hears this objection to a diagnosis, 
"But this patient has memory! See all the information he can 
give. Now Hsten to the reflection which he makes; it proves 
that he is not lacking in judgment." It would seem that these 
objections were correct. When a patient furnishes exact informa- 
tion as to his trade, his income, his first entrance into the asylum, 
or recalls some event that you yourself have forgotten and which 
you are obliged to verify, one may recognize in him a general 
paralytic, but it is not by virtue of the conception which these 
authors have formed upon the subject of the weakening of the 
intelhgence, because the conservation of the attention, of judg- 
ment, of memory, is incompatible with this conception. On 
the contrary our theory puts us completely at our ease with these 
embarrassing facts. Dementia is not characterized by a lower- 
ing of level and the lowering of the level is not sufficient to con- 
stitute dementia; one does not speak of dementia in melancholia 
although the intellectual functions are very much diminished. 
The intelligence of the general paralytic is lowered, disturbed, 
by accidents which manifest themselves in his functioning, acci- 
dents which constitute veritable defects. There does not exist 
in the beginning, for instance, deterioration of judgment, but 
faults of judgment, repeated accidents, blunders. The inertia 
of functioning is in the beginning only accidental, hence the con- 
trast with the whole of the personality; it occurs at intervals 
very irregularly, and of course it manifests itself particularly 
in difficult and comphcated cases which demand effort, care, 
attention to detail; for the diagnosis to be estabHshed it suf- 
fices that one of these characteristic defects manifests itself 
clearly. By the repetition, the multiphcation of these defects, 
we have a lowering of the level, because these defects interfere 
with and consequently diminish the output of the individual. 
Compared to each other the imbecile and the dement are 



296 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

like two poor walkers who have different reasons for not going 
a long distance, the imbecile because he has very short legs, 
the dement because he makes false steps and is constantly- 
falling down. That which dominates the whole question is 
the mechanism of the errors produced by the dements. We re- 
place the old conception then by a conception that is more pre- 
cise. The old conception, according to which the demential 
states depend upon a quantitative diminution of the intelhgence 
or upon an injury of all the faculties, was a constant source of 
confusion. One had indeed the impression that there was some- 
thing besides this; but whenever the diagnosis of dementia was 
doubtful, or when one attempted to determine exactly the con- 
stituent elements, the ground that he beHeved soUd gave way 
under his feet. To the vague and inexact afl&rmation of a global 
diminution of the whole intelligence must be added, and even 
substituted for it, the conception of individual errors of func- 
tioning, of defects of every sort, which by their multipUcation 
lower the intellectual level and which present the two following 
characteristics: irregularity and extensiveness relative to the 
level of the subjects. 



IV. DISTINCTION BETWEEN IDEATIONAL INTELLI- 
GENCE AND INSTINCTIVE INTELLIGENCE 

1. Portraits of two senile dements. Serious objection 
could be made to the theory of paralytic dementia which we have 
just set forth; or to put it better, we shall make some observations 
which at first sight seem to contradict the preceding theory, 
but which on the contrary when rightly interpreted will support 
it and will permit its meaning to be enlarged. 

We allude to a whole category of patients, the senile dements, 
who present extremely accentuated disturbances of memory 
and consequently of the faculty of evocation, and who neverthe- 
less have not at all the same mentality nor the same attitude 
as general paralytics. Instead of making a clinical table of 
senile dementia let us observe a patient, make her talk and sub- 
mit her to different tests which show all the consequences of 
the amnesia with which she is affected. 

We present to our readers an old woman who seems to be sixty- 
five or sixty-six years old; she is small, thin, with slightly anemic 
skin and delicate features. She is quite Hvely, her expression 
is serious and attentive, she has even an intelligent glance which 
meets ours directly. This lady is not without good manners. 
She says good morning on entering, seats herself on a chair and 
awaits our questions in a polite manner. She at once gives the 
impression of a reasonable person and her conversation from 
the start confirms this impression. She shows neither famiharity 
nor lack of tact. The social sense is well preserved in her. Her 
air of dignity and of circumspection would pass very well in a 
waiting woman of a public building. 

Already this attitude permits us to understand with whom 
we have to deal; she is not an imbecile nor a paralytic. But this 
is perhaps only a deceptive appearance; perhaps also the correct- 
ness of her attitude is only a residue of a former state, the well 
preserved fagade of an edifice in ruins, such as one might expect 
to find in dementia patients. We must not therefore stop at 
these exterior signs. Let us make our patient talk. 

297 



298 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Her conversation when followed for some time astonishes us. 
We commence, according to our custom, by giving general ques- 
tions; we ask her age, her profession, her family, her past life. 
It is impossible to obtain a single precise reply or any trustworthy 
information. Facts that are of prime importance she declares 
she does not remember; for others her explanations are not at 
all clear, they are even contradictory. Let us see. 




FIG. 23. MME. MACOLARD, SENILE DEMENT, PRESENTS HERSELF WITH AN 
AIR OF GREAT DIGNITY. 



Q. What is your name? 

A. I am called Mme. Macolard. 

Q. What is your age? 

A. Oh! monsieur, I am not young oh! no! 

Q. But what is your age? 

A. Seventy-two or seventy-five years. 

Q. Are you from Paris? 

A. Ah! no, I am from Clermont. 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 299 

Q. What is your profession? 

A. (Pointing to Dr. Simon who is writing.) Well my profession — to 
do what that gentleman there writes. (Impossible to know what she means 
to say.) 

Q. You were in business? 

A. Yes, in business, the hardware business. 

Q. What did you do in business? 

A. We made the circuit. We did it, it was very well. (Confused 
explanations, niunerous details that no one could hear or understand.) 

Q. You have had many children? 

A. I was the only child. 

Q. You have not understood. I ask you how many children you have 
had. 

A. It would be hard for me to tell. 

Q. Why so? 

A. Because I do not know exactly. 

Q. Let us see, explain yourself. Have you had more than one? 

A. Oh! I should say. I have had more than four since I came here. 
(Unintelligible.) 

Q. Have you had ten? 

A. You would not wish it. 

Q. Less than ten then? 

A. Oh! I think so. 

Q. More than five? 

A. Oh! surely five. Because one must come and go. — I would not tell 
you that I had less than five. 

One can already see from these few words how her memory 
has gone. There are singular omissions and obscurities in her 
repHes. Note now some contradictions. 

Q. Your mother is still living? 
A. Oh! yes, monsieur. 
Q. How old is she? 
A. She is younger than I. 
Q. She is not your real mother then? 
A. Yes, my real mother. 
Q. You say she is younger than you? 
A. Once she was younger than I. 
Q. But now she is older? 

A . Since Monsieur (pointing to Dr. Simon) is younger than I— well it 
is the same thing. (Unintelligible.) 
Q. You have told your age? 
A. Oh! yes, monsieur. 
Q. Tell me again. What is your age? 
A. Perhaps sixty, sixty-five. How much I do not know. 
She had said seventy-two or seventy-five a moment before. 



300 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. And your mother, what is her age? 

A. Mama is older than I. Very often she stays in the country. 
Q. How old is she? 

A. I do not know — If it was read — (pointing to Dr. Simon who writes) 
If that page that is being written were read — 

Q. But you said your mother was younger than you? 

A. Oh! she is not younger than I. She is about like me, my age. 

It can be seen how contradictory are the words of this woman 
since in an interval of five minutes she affirms that she is older 
than her mother, then that she is younger and finally that they 
are of the same age. But in reality it is because she has no pro- 
nounced definite convictions about the words she uses. She con- 
tradicts herself because she forgets the sense of the phrase which 
she has started and also the end which she has in view while 
speaking. Obviously none of these contradictions would be 
encountered in a conversation with imbeciles. 

The memory of Mme. Macolard presents in fact a very accen- 
tuated weakening. That which is conserved in her is the use of 
language and that which constitutes knowledge not memories; 
for instance, reading (she reads quite fluently), writing, the knowl- 
edge of money, the names of colors, etc. But for whatever 
concerns recent acquisitions she is deeply stricken. It may be 
said that she has knowledge hut not memory. Thus she cannot 
find her bearings from any point of view; she knows neither the 
hour, the day, the month, the season, nor even the year. 

Q. What day is today? 
A. I do not even know anything. 
Q. Is it afternoon or morning? 
A. Ah, indeed, I do not know. 
Q. Try to tell which it is, afternoon or morning? 
A. It is still morning. 

Q. And what morning? (In reality it is five o'clock in the evening.) 
A. You have asked me too much. 
Q. What did you eat this morning? 
A. Ah! it would be very hard for me to tell you. 
Q. What month is this? 
A. 1 know nothing about it. 
Q. Oh! yes, tell me what month it is? 
A. Is it the same as you? 
Q. Yes. 

A. If it is the same we are equal. (Happy way for her to escape.) 
Q. This is December! (In reality it is May, it is warm, the fruit trees 
are in bloom.) 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 301 

A. That surprises me. December and January. We are not in the 
month of January. It is possible. 
Q. What year is this? 

A. Faith, I know nothing. What year did you say it was? 
Q. 1809. 

A. 1809, that is nothing. 

Q. And do you know who just died? Louis XIV. 
A. I have heard of him. 

We shall not attempt to characterise this forgetfulness as lack 
of attention. When the memory is affected to this degree it is 
evident that the attention must be also affected. It forms a 
complicated mass of distm-bances. What seems to us certain 
is that the great loss comes in the memory; not to know the year 
in which one is living cannot come from a falhng off of the power 
of attention; not to know if it is morning or afternoon cannot 
come from a lack of attention; however weak the attention the 
meals are noted. These lapses come from loss of memory. 

Let us proceed to a methodical study of her memory, by way 
of experimient. She can repeat four figures; she attains occasional- 
ly this maximum of four. Out of thirteen pictures shown her she 
does not remember a single one. All that she can do is to repeat a 
sentence of eight syllables. We give her three simple com- 
missions. She understands them very well but the moment 
she rises to perform them she is much embarrassed. The three 
commissions are as follows : to carry a music box to another table, 
to take a flower from a bouquet and bring it to us, to move a 
chair. The dement rises, saying, "Well, I must take the bouquet." 
She goes to the table, looks at the bouquet, "I am to take only 
one flower." She is deeply embarrassed, turns to us, looks at 
us, seeking to implore our assistance. But we remain as im- 
movable as sphinxes. She decides to pick a flower. Her em- 
barrassment continues. 'Terhaps I must not bring it " 

She lays it on a chair and comes back to her seat without any 
concern as to- the commission she has forgotten. Such a loss 
of memory renders her completely useless. 

Nothing shows us more clearly the fugitive character of her 
memory than the experiment with cards. We present to her 
two cards and ask her to name them; then we conceal the two 
cards and fifteen seconds later, which is a very short period, 
we ask her to name the two cards; she has forgotten them. Since 



302 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

we did not succeed with simple cards we show her some face 
cards, the king of diamonds and the queen of clubs. Thirty- 
seconds are used in showing and making her name the two cards. 
She is very attentive. Then we turn them over on the table 
and ask her to name them after allowing exactly fifteen seconds 
to pass. 

Q. Well? What were they? 

A. But I did not see. They were red on the back. I did not want to 
raise the other. 

Q. Yes, but what did I show you? 

A. You showed me 1 am not sure that one wasn't the six. 

Q. And the other? 

A. Turn it over You only look at it yourself. 

We begin and show her the same cards and again we allow fifteen seconds 
to pass. 

Q. Well now, this time you are going to name them. 

A. King of clubs — and the Queen — perhaps of clubs also or of spades — 
I only glanced at them. (It is her habit always to complain.) 

It can be seen with what difficulty we succeed in giving her 
a trace of memory which probably did not endure more than 
two seconds. This is however one of the easiest experiments 
with memory that could be made. That is the reason we use it 
in senile dementia. In paralytic dementia we employ a more 
difficult test, that of the three figures, Ernest, Louis, Antoine. 
But it would be out of the question here for it would be too diffi- 
cult for our patient to retain. Let us conclude with an incident. 
While Mme. Macolard is with us we send for Denise, an imbecile 
whose presence cannot escape notice for she laughs aloud inces- 
santly. Denise remains a full quarter of an hour with us; Mme. 
Macolard often speaks to her to admonish her, telling her to 
be quiet, etc. The scene is not devoid of humor. Mme. Macolard 
has received from us a paper with the request to read us something. 
She consents but she has the habit of not being able to decide; 
she always finds that something is wrong, she turns the paper 
in every direction. Denise near her laughs loudly. The de- 
ment is offended at her laughter, and addresses a reprimand 
full of feehng to Denise, "Mademoiselle, do not laugh; you must 
be more respected." If certain words are inexact the tone is 
there. The imbecile, impressed, quiets herself. The dement 
goes back to her paper. She coniplains that she cannot see. 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 303 

"With glasses," she says, "I could see all right." Seeing that 
we wear glasses she says to us, "But you have them, then you 
read," and she hands us the paper. We refuse it. This excites 
a new burst of laughter from the imbecile and the dement repri- 
mands her again, "My dear, you must not laugh like a child of 
three." The scene lasts quite a while, after which the two 
women are taken into the garden to be photographed; this took 
a long time because we took three photographs of one and two 
of the other and the poses had to be arranged. All then returned 
to the office and after a little while Denise was allowed to go. 

A half hour after the imbecile had left us we questioned Mme. 
Macolard about the affair. 

Q. Did any one come in here with us? 

A. Not that I know of any way. 

Q. We three have not been alone all the time? Think. Besides we 
were not in this room all the time. 

A. (In substance she says that once we went out together.) 

Q. Are you sure that we opened that door? 

A. I think so. (It was by that door that we had gone into the garden.) 

Q. So no one came in since we have been here? 

A. But we have not been here long. 

(In reality we had been there at least two hours.) 

Q. You do not remember to have seen a patient enter here? 

A. Ah! a patient who could not stand up. 

Q. Madame, a patient did come in here ! 

A. Yes. I do not know. I say yes, but I do not know. 

Q. A patient came in here! 

A. Here? You have scarcely had any patients this year. (Unintel- 
ligible.) 

Q. It was a patient who laughed all the time. 

A. That stout woman who came here! She did nothing but laugh. 

Q. You remember her then? 

A. Yes, monsieur, it was easy to remember her. She sat here on this 
chair, and then she laughed with her fat face. (Correct, the imbecile 
has a fat face.) 

Thus it can be seen with what difficulty we awaken in her 
this very striking and very recent memory. 

It is certain that so great a psychological disturbance must 
produce many repercussions in the mental stage of the patient. 
The principal repercussion that became visible during our 
examination was besides the loss of memory the inappropriate- 
ness of language. This dement had great trouble in naming 



304 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

familiar objects shown to her. A gas jet was called a lamp; 
a wash basin was called porcelain or a thing to wash in; a water 
pitcher received this pictm'esque appellation, "It is one that waits 
for water to be put in." The expression of ideas suffers from 
this poverty of words and the patient, as one can see from the 
bits of dialogue which we have given, often uses unintelhgible 
phraseology or afl&rms facts which a few minutes before she had 
denied. This comes from incoherence of language much more 
than from incoherence of ideas. 

But let us examine the effect which the amnesia has had upon 
the judgment of the dement. Does she commit gross blunders? 
Does she accept without any critical sense the enormities that 
one affirms before her? Has she lost the sense of the ridiculous? 
Is she suggestible to a supreme degree? Already it has been 
possible to note a certain ironic turn in her sentence; whatever 
the value of this irony it is evidently of a quahty that would 
be impossible in an imbecile. Mme. Macolard is not devoid 
of wit. Once we asked her to make some mental additions; 
she could not perform them but neither did she satisfy herself 
as would an unbecile by replying at random. 

Q. How much dt)es 9 and 8 make? 

A. Very well, 9 How much does 9 and 8 make? 

Q. Answer first, I will tell you afterwards. 
A. Very well that will be time enough. 

Notice also that she never replies haphazard as would an im- 
becile; when she does not know she does not reply at all and 
declares she does not know, which is very sensible on her part. 
On the whole her memory is extremely weakened but her judg- 
ment is far from being equally so; it is even quite good. 

Let us introduce another senile dement, Mme. Langlais. She 
has the brusque, surly but good manner of a country woman. 

She has lost her memory even more than Mme. Macolard 
but her judgment remains equally good. She has less dignity 
than Mme. Macolard and more good natm*e, more gayety, es- 
pecially at the beginning of the sitting; as time goes on she changes 
as will be seen. 

Q. What is your name? 

A. My name is 1 have forgotten it already 1 have forgotten it. 

I was born at Sucy there 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 305 

Q. You do not remember your name? 

^. Ah! to be sure the name of course. I know well, only at times 

one does not pay attention. I was born at Sucy. 

Q. You do not know your name? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. What is your name? 

A. Augustine. 

Q. And your family name? 

A. My family Oh, that's at Sucy. 

Q. But your family name. 

A. I have forgotten, I have forgotten. 

We have never encountered a more complete case of amnesia. 

Q. What is your age? 

A. Ah! monsieur I am old. I cannot always remember. 

Q. Is it morning or evening? 

A. I cannot tell you. I do not know, I do not know if it is morning or 
evening. I do not know, I cannot tell you. 

Notice the tone, the gay manner. 

Q. What is a fork? 

A. Monsieur? 

Q. What is a fork? 

A. What is a fork. Well it is no. I cannot say what it is A 

fork is a fork so to eat with. 

Q. What is a table? 

A. A table? Well a table, it is to be useful for Well I cannot tell 

you any better. 

Q. A chair? 

A. Well a chair, it is useful for well, to sit down. 

Q. A horse? 

^. Ah! well, faith, a horse, to work to work. And then. I don't 

know how to do any more. 

Q. And a mama? 

A. (She laughs.) Ah! That, she does all sorts of things. 

Q. What? What's that? 

A. Yes, it is a marmot, a fichu, it is all sorts of things, and then one 
puts 

Q. Where is your nose? 

A. (First she laughs because she seems surprised and struck with the 
unusual character of the question. This proves in itself that the judgment 

is good.) Well, here it is, my nose here Monsieur, it is here It is 

large but here it is all the same. (And as we laugh at her remark she adds) 
Faith, you make me say silly things ! 

Q. Now you are going to repeat some figures that I give you. 

A. Yes, sir. 

Q. 2! 

A. 2 what? 

Q. 2! 

A. 2. 



306 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. 4, 9! 

A. (Silence.) , 

Q. 4, 9! 

A. 4, 9! 

Q. 6, 1, 8! 

A. How is that? I forget. Ah! when one is old. 

Q. 3, 0, 7! 

A. Oh! well, I cannot tell you that, like that. 

Q. You know. 2! 

A. 2! 

Q. Wait! 

A. Well, I do not know. 

Q. 3, 0, 8! 

Q. Oh! well, there is too much. There was 3 and then Must I 

say that? I have no more memory, nothing of anything. My, but it is 
provoking ! 

She is right, her memory has become very weak;but she criticizes her- 
self, she accuses her age! 

Q. What is this house here? 

A. Yes, monsieur. 

Q. What is this house here? 

A. Well, what do you want? I have the name, but I have forgotten. 
It is provoking, the least thing. 

Q. Is it a castle? 

A. Yes, it is a castle, but it is not ours. 

Q. Here, is it a prison? 

A. Ah! no, it is not a prison. 

Q. A hospital? 

A. Yes, a little farther They call that (She stops, not finding the 

word). What do you wish since I tell you I do not know anything about 
anything. 

There is a little confusion in her words because she has verbal amnesia 
and cannot find her words easily. 

Q. What is this? (Showing a key.) 

A. A key. 

Q. And that? {"crayon" — a pencil.) 

A. (After having looked closely.) A "corrotj" No, I see all right 

what it is a "crochon" No, I tell you I am stupid as anything. 

Q. What is it? 

A. I see a pencil Ah! what do you want? I cannot see well. 

Q. And this? (A sou.) 

A. Oh! that, well, think, that is a 2-sou piece. 

She has the same trouble with the colors; she names correctly yellow, 
blue, and green; the red embarrasses her. 

A. That, it is a It is a thing How now? I see, I know, I cannot 

say it It is violet not violet 1 cannot say it. Oh how tiresome! 

It is garnet. 

Q. How many children have you had? 

A. Yes. 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 307 

Q. How many children have you had? 

A. I have had four. 

Q. No more? 

A. Really, I don't know if there are others. Faith, when they're all 
gone 1 don't know. 

Q. What are their names? 

A. My boy, he is the oldest. He is good in business, but the others 

They do not know. (Sighing) Ah! mon Dieu, mon Dieu, I am half dead. 
It is unfortunate when one cannot see! (She constantly complains of her 
eyes.) 

A moment later admitting that she gets confused when she is 
told to count thirteen sous she makes this picturesque reflection ; 
"My grandmother used to say to me when you are old you will 
see — ^And now here I am." We pass on to other tests which we 
make, in order to get her level; because of her amnesia we can 
accomplish nothing; suffice it to say that she reaches only the 
level of intelligence of four years. 

At the moment of parting we thought of a little by-play which 
shows very well that this old woman has good sense and can 
defend herself from our suggestions. The attendant came to 
bring a basket of apples into the office; the apples were red and 
had an appetizing appearance. We said to Mme. Langlais, 

Q. Here are apples. Take one. 

A. No. I don't want to. 

Q. Oh! yes, take one. 

A. No, they are not mine. So people can say that I took the apples. 
(With energy) When I eat apples it is because I buy them. 

Q. But he (pointing to the other) he stole the apples. 

A. Ah! that, that's not my affair. 

Q. Take one! , 

A. There is no danger. I do not want to take other people's. If any 
one gives them to me I will take them. But I do not wish to take them. 
There! 

This was the first skirmish and we already see that she can de- 
fend herself against temptation. But here is something better, 
the scene which follows indeed astonished us. We were not pre- 
pared for this conduct on the part of a woman whom amnesia 
had driven to forgetting her own name. We simulated wishing 
to borrow money from her. 

Q. (With an insinuating tone) I need some money. 

A. (Without disturbing herself, remaining seated) Very well, every- 



308 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

body needs that. But you understand that if I were to come and hunt for 
twenty sous, somebody would have to give it to me. One must eat. 

This is the nonsense of asphasia. Let us continue. 

Q. But I need money. 

A. Me too— Faith! 

Q. I am going to write a note for you to give me money. 

A. No, monsieur, I have no money for that. 

Q. (Taking a pen) I am going to write a note for you to give me money. 

A. I have none; I cannot give you any. 

Q. One always has money. 

A. I should like to know, I who am all alone. 

Q. (Writing) I write, Mme. Langlais will give me ten francs. 

A. (Raising her voice) No, no, no. I cannot give money to anybody. 
I have none. Well, my husband left me well fixed. No I won't give any 
of it. With that the merchants are very kind. 

Q. (Showing the note) Very well I have made the note for ten francs. 
You will sign it. 

A. No, no, Monsieur, I have none, no money. 

Q. Come on, sign this. 

A. No, no, I cannot! I have no money. I am all alone (indignant). 
And then, I must ! If I earn twenty sous and I eat at the same time, I 
would have nothing, no, I cannot. 

Q. See here! Madame Langlais, you must sign. 

A. No, I cannot! I cannot give money when I have none. (She is 
angry, she wheels in her chair and turns her back to us) And my son, he 
would fix me. He would say you are indeed crazy! I have not worked 
all winter. 

Q. Give me ten francs because I want to buy a bicycle. 

A. Well, yes, I do not say no, but I have no money. You understand, a 
woman who works. If I had I might say I have some. 

Q. I need it for a wedding. 

A. To go to a wedding! You have more than I. You earn more than 
I. I cannot, I cannot. 

Q. Have you much of a fortune? 

A. (Indignant) I have the money that I earn. 

Q. About how much have you? 

A. I don't need to tell you what I have. You have more than I. You 
understand, a woman of my age cannot have much. 

Q. But you have a house? 

A. And if I had a house it wouldn't be for you! 

Q. You must have money in an old drawer. 

A. And if I had I wouldn't give it to you. My dear friend, if you 
have only that — 

Q. (Insinuatingly) Shall I write to your son for him to give me your 
money? 

A. (Furious) Well, well, well There are children If there is a 

20-franc piece, and he were to give it Money, I have none nor my son 

either. 



TWO SENILE DEMENTS 309 

Q. I assure you I need money because I love delicate food. 
A. Well, we eat potatoes with oil and vinegar. I eat that and it is 
good. Since I came I have had nothing at all. 

Q. (Without saying a word we hand her the pen.) 
A. No, I have no money at all. 

In her indignation she rises and walks about the room while we 
both remain seated at the table. Her countenance is animated. 
She pronounces her words indistinctly. She encounters the bas- 
ket of apples, she takes one and tries to break it while saying words 
like this, ''No, I have no money for anyone." We offer to help 
her cut her apple. She refuses. "A woman all alone !" she scolds. 
"What money can she have! a woman all alone." She seats 
herself apart and eats her apple with a surly air all the time re- 
peating the same words. Time passes; already ten minutes have 
elapsed since she took the apple but her anger does not leave her. 
That demand for money is always on her heart. She talks to her- 
self about it constantly. Finally the one of us who had conducted 
the dialogue (Binet) leaves the room and she draws close to Dr. 
Simon and says to him under her breath, "Who is that man 
there? I cannot — I have only just enough for myself. No I 
will not ! My husband would scold me. I don't want to be tor- 
mented like that ! If Louis came he would lead me such a life 

Why " Her grudge is so strong that when B returns to 

the room the dement refuses to speak to him; we insist upon photo- 
graphing her. She refuses obstinately. She continues to dig in 
the basket for apples and to crunch them. We wish to call her 
attention to the fact that the apples do not belong to her. 

Q. Where did you buy that apple? 

A. It was given to me. 

Q. Who gave you that apple? 

A. That is not your affair. 

Q. See here, where did you get that apple? 

A. There are more in the field. 

Q. But you did not go into the field to get it? 

A. That is nothing to you. It came from the field. 

Q. Did you steal it? 

A. That's none of your affair. Why no. Why do you come asking me 

that? I ask you a little There, who is going to ask me? (She takes 

another apple.) 

Q. Apples cost four sous. 

A. That's none of your affairs. 



310 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

Q. It is worth four sous. 
A. It isn't yours. 

Impossible to talk any more with her, she has become intract- 
able; we are obliged to let her go. An attendant comes and gets 
her and takes her to the hall. 

This curious scene lasts for nearly three-quarters of an hour. 
There was not a moment of forgetfulness. The patient never 
for an instant forgot that her money was wanted; her anger in- 
creased steadily in a sort of classical manner first restrained by a 
feeling of propriety, then overflowing, allowing such' remarks as 
"That's none of your affairs" and ending in a calmer state of per- 
sistent rancor against the one who attempted to take her money. 
It is really interesting to see such a continuity of thought in a 
patient suffering from profound amnesia. 

2. Comparison between senile dementia and paralytic 
DEMENTIA. It remains for us to draw from these two observations 
of senile dementia a conclusion relative to the theory of dementia 
in general. 

Senile dementia has been judged from very different points of 
view. In the first place one has been so deceived by the inco- 
herence of their words that it has been supposed that they had 
incoherence of ideas, or delirium; let us recall in this connection 
the contradictory replies which the old women gave of the age of 
their mothers and the number of their children. A more exact 
interpretation has shown that in this case the incoherence is 
more apparent than real; it indicates disturbance of language, 
the unconscious use of inexact words and this paraphrasing is 
only one of the many manifestations of a more considerable 
disturbance of memory. Senile dements present in reality the 
characteristic trait of having become incapable of remembering; 
they have lost the faculty of evocation and of fixation, so far as it 
can be lost. For proof of this we need nothing more than the 
game with the cards described above which, indeed, gives positive 
results onh^ with patients of this category. 

If senile dements are especially affected in the evocation of their 
memories, is it right to say that we should compare them to general 
paralytics, since we have admitted that with the latter the impo- 
tence of evocation gives the key to all or nearly all of their dis- 
turbances of functioning? No, this comparison would not be cor- 



SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 311 

rect, because when one talks with senile dements one notes this 
extremely important fact that they have good sense and are con- 
scious of their sorry state of decay, which contrasts clearly with 
the unconsciousness which marks most general paralytics. More- 
over, for a long time it has been acknowledged that the difference 
between the two forms of dementia lies in the fact that in senile 
dementia the judgment is better preserved than in paralytic 
dementia. 

We admit this point of view without hesitation, but we believe 
it important to emphasize the psychological consequences which 
proceed from this because these consequences so far have not 
been pointed out. If it is true, as we believe, that senile de- 
ments are not lacking in good sense or in judgment, this makes 
the mental nature of judgment appear in. a new light. 

Our classical theories, which constantly put the accent on the 
clearest and most conscious part of the mental processes, the 
idea, which admit that the intelligence is a combination of ideas, 
and that the law of the intelligence is a logical law, these theo- 
ries, we say, consider the judgment also as an ideational manifes- 
tation, as an act which consists in grasping the relation of two 
ideas, in uniting them, or in opposing them. If it were really 
so, the facts of pathological observation which we have just re- 
ported could not be understood. One who was incapable of hav- 
ing ideas would be incapable of judging; and our two poor old 
women who are able to recall almost nothing in the form of words 
or images could neither judge nor appreciate. How would Mme. 
Macolard ever have come to judge the laughter of the imbecile 
Denise as childish and unmannerly if it had been necessary for 
her to represent to herself under the form of ideas the attitude of 
good manners? 

We much more readily believe that the act of judging consists 
essentially in an emotive and motor tendency to approve and to 
disapprove; this tendency may indeed manifest itself by ideas 
which are the motifs of judgment; but often the ideas do not 
form themselves clearly after the judgment is pronounced, and 
often they are so slow in forming themselves that they never ap- 
pear; one judges without motif, without justification, without 
ideas, but nevertheless, one judges. At the moment of jud ing 
one is animated by a certain feeling which draws one towards 
or turns one from the object judged. It is this feeling which is 



312 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

the foundation of the matter. The painter, to whom one submits 
a canvas, says, "That is no good," but he can not always express 
clearly what is "no good;" he has the feeling, and this feeling 
is often as strong, as imperious, as irresistible as the most clearly 
deduced reasoning. In the same way one may have the feeling 
that an action is impossible, or that a certain course is unreason- 
able, or that a certain expression is immoral, and one disap- 
proves because he is animated by a certain feeling of disappro- 
bation without having a single clear idea, without attempting to 
give any justification, without referring to a norm of things pos- 
sible, reasonable or moral. 

We might even go farther. One could insist that there are 
certain acts of judgment, that are performed only by ideas, which 
are the simulations of judgment rather than real judgments. One 
submits an action to a person for his judgment; if that person 
possesses the instinctive part of judgment he will exclaim, "But 
that is crazy, that is idiotic, etc." Exactly as another to whom 
we present a foreign food after having put it in his mouth ex- 
claims, "That nauseates me." On the contrary, one who has not 
this instinctive reaction is obliged to compare the act submitted 
to him with the memory of other similar acts and to recall to him- 
self if in analogous circumstances the action has been generally 
disapproved, has appeared ridiculous or imprudent; thus he makes 
a comparison, an appreciation by means of a norm which is fur- 
nished to him by his experience. This diverted process is, we be- 
lieve, the rock of salvation for those who have no judgment and 
who endeavor, nevertheless, not to be deceived. This certainly 
is not to say that the judgment by ideas is always false or bad, but 
in itself it is rather empty and very subject to errors in the same 
way that judgment by instinct is very narrow; the true judgment 
is a synthesis which includes at the same time both feeling and 
idea. 

Let us conclude by a little psychological experiment which 
throws a clear light upon the important role of feeling in judg- 
ment. Suppose that some one writes before us a list of one hun- 
dred common words, like duck, hat, meadow, etc.; we have read 
them over so as to practically know them. Now the list is hid- 
den; we are given a word at random, and we must reply as to 
whether or not it is in the list. The necessary time for judging 
varies a little, according to the case, according to the word, accord- 



SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 313 

ing to the persons who serve as subjects and a host of other cir- 
cumstances impossible to evaluate; but on the average the time is 
very short. Two or three seconds suffice to decide whether the 
word is new or loiown. Now two or three seconds is not sufficient 
to recapitulate, even mentally, the list of one hundred words and, 
moreover, the testimony of the subjects is that they never make 
the mental recapitulation; they do not make it because they do not 
feel the need of it. One passes judgment upon the word whether 
it is new or known according to a particular feeling which is 
awakened by the audition, a feeling of novelty, of surprise if it is 
unknown ; a feeling of having been already seen, of familiarity, in 
the contrary case. Here then is a case of an act of judgment, 
very clear, very easy to analyse, which would require, if one con- 
formed to the rules of logic, a detailed comparison with images or 
perceptions, but which in reality disregards all this, is nothing 
less than intellectual, and is produced by the wholly instinctive 
operation of feeling. 

This is the point to which reflection upon the results of our ex- 
perimental psychology leads us. These results are confirmed by 
the results of pathological psychology. We have just seen two 
old women who have a remarkable poverty of ideas and who often 
show a positive inability for evoking the proper idea ; in spite of 
this they judge and they judge exceedingly well. By their atti- 
tudes they show that they have preserved their feeling of pro- 
priety; by the way in which they refuse to reply haphazard to 
what they do not know they prove that they have the feeling of 
true and false; certain ones have also in the most touching manner 
the painful feeling of their own decay and are sorrowful over the 
effects of old age; often they have also the consciousness of being 
in a hospital. We have seen in Mme. Macolard the feeling of 
disapprobation for the puerile laughter of an imbecile. Even at 
our own expense we have learned how much Mme. Langlais 
judges the danger of putting her signature to a note, because she 
never pardoned the proposition which we made to her of bor- 
rowing ten francs. 

All these judgments are the indications of a character which in 
spite of amnesia is not yet disorganized; thus in the presence of a 
senile dem^ent one has the clear impression that there is before 
him a personality that holds itself together and not one that is 
amorphous. 



314 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

In terminating this point let us harmonize these conclusions with 
those acquired from another study which we made upon the 
relation of speech and thought. We have seen that there are 
thoughts without images even among normal adults who are in 
full possession of themselves, because it was among them that we 
made this unexpected observation, they are able to have an image 
and to think far beyond this image, to think things very much 
more complicated which the images can not represent. ^^ 

We have further seen that there are some thoughts without 
words; we have found the proof of this among imbeciles and cases 
of aphasia.^* What remains of a thought from which its two 
principal elements consciousness and analysis have been removed? 
We have shown that there remains a particular tendency, which 
manifests itself under the form of an indefinable feeling. One has 
the feeling of an intention. We now extend this theory to judg- 
ment and it certainly does not require a great effort of the imagi- 
nation to make such an extension because to think is to judge, 
and what is true of thought in general must be equally true of 
judgment. In every thought there is an appreciation and this 
appreciation is a judgment. We have besides direct proof that 
this theory is true of judgment, because we have just seen that 
patients afflicted with amnesia, incapable of recalling the vast 
majority of their memories, can nevertheless continue to judge 
correctly. They have had the experience and they retain good 
sense and a critical mind, even though they can no longer evoke 
the precise memories of their experiences nor cite the least fact; 
in the place of precise memories they have the feeling of things, 
and that suffices ; it amounts to the same thing, it permits them to 
make a judgment. 

According to our hypothesis the feeling presents itself in a defi- 
nite relation to the idea. Idea and feeling make one; they are 
two successive stages of the same process; that which is idea was 

^' Thus a persons who thinks, "I shall leave tomorrow," may indeed 
have images of the train, the trunks, the country he is leaving, the friends 
who expect him, and of all sorts of other details; but these are only details, 
and the essential idea, "I shall leave tomorrow," does not and can not 
figure in these images. 

" Let us recall the observation of that aphasic patient who when asked 
a thing too difficult for him replied in an energetic, slow tone, "Ca, non" 
that is to say, "I can not do that;" he had then a thought without adequate 
words, and consequently some part of the thought without any words. 



SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 315 

at first a feeling and the feeling in evolving and rendering itself 
precise becomes at the same time idea, word, action; the feeling 
is the obscure, heated stage; when it clears it becomes more com- 
prehensible and rational, it produces ideas. In senile dementia 
it is the last part, the flower of the process as it were, the idea 
that is struck and withers; but the instinctive part remains vivid; 
and it is thus that senile dements are reduced to an instinctive 
existence consequently very low, very animal, but still coordinate. 
Let us recall in this relation our scheme of thought which con- 
sists in a triple phenomenon of direction, adaptation and control. 
It now appears to us that it is not only the control which can 
occur under the form of feeling, but also the direction, since senile 
dements in spite of their amnesia know how to keep a given direc- 
tion and a prolonged attitude. Moreover, we can no longer be 
content with the conclusion that in senile dementia there is a con- 
servation of the judgment; we go farther even to the much more 
interesting and more profound conclusion that senile dementia 
tends toward a destruction of the ideational life with conserva- 
tion of the instinctive part of the thought. 

Certainly this word instinct is one which has been most seriously 
and most dangerously abused; and perhaps one would not find two 
psychologists or two naturalists who would give the same defini- 
tion of instinct. It is therefore perhaps dangerous to introduce 
this word of equivocal meaning into a new analysis of the phe- 
nomena of intelligence. Nevertheless, in spite of all these objec- 
tions, in terminating this study of senile dementia we have de- 
cided to present a proposition relative to the distinction to be 
established between ideational intelligence, which as its name indi- 
cates operates by means of ideas and of words, and instinctive 
intelligence; the latter evidently has nothing whatever to do with 
certain characteristics which rightly or wrongly are attributed 
to the instinct of animals, when one wishes, chiefly for theoretical 
reasons, to make a distinction between instinct and reason; we 
do not in the least attribute to that which we call "instinctive 
intelligence" the qualities of innateness, infallibility, specific- 
ness, imperfectibility, necessity. A single character, a character 
wholly negative, without doubt the most important character of 
instinct, is found in the instinctive manifestation of the intelli- 
gence; that is, it is the lack of an exact image picturing the end 
to be attained and the means to be employed, which would give 



316 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

to all this a clear awareness. There is here the lack of a logical 
perception, of a verbal reasoning, which would permit of explain- 
ing and of demonstrating a succession of truths; it is, in a word, 
in the realm of the unknown and the mysterious, surrounding 
actions which are none the less adapted and intelligent in their 
effects. 

Let us go back and compare our two senile dements with our 
general paralytics. It has long been said that judgment remains 
in senile dementia but is lost in paralytic dementia. This truth 
is open to criticism when affirmed in such absolute terms; be- 
cause it is possible to find some traces of judgment among general 
paralytics who are at the beginning of their malady; there are 
others, quite advanced in certain symptoms, who still retain a 
certain amount of good sense. We have drawn at some length 
the portrait of Mme. Solas, a paralytic who passed judgment 
upon herself and found herself very stupid. One could not have 
said of her that paralytic dementia always destroys the judgment. 
To avoid these contradictions one must take into account the 
fundamental idea of level. Without doubt at a given level the 
general paralytic has infinitely less judgment than the senile de- 
ment. Mme. Langlais has an intelligence of scarcely four years; 
the paralytics of seven or eight years judge much less correctly 
than she and have consequently very much less common sense. 

Here is an incident in proof of this. Some pages back we spoke 
of the anger of Mme. Langlais whom we requested to sign a note 
for ten francs. It is well known that paralytics on the contrary 
are very generous and would give away millions when delirious. 
But even apart from all delirium one very easily obtains from 
many of them gifts by writing. When Mme. Langlais left us we 
had the curiosity to call into the office a general paralytic whom 
we knew very well, a woman named Bernard, and to demand 
money of her in a similar manner. The reception was altogether 
different. 

This woman has a level of seven years. 

Q. (Writing) Mme. Bernard, have you a little money? 

A. None. 

Q. But one always has a little money. 

A. I had some money once. 

Q. You see, I need some money. 

^. Ah! ah! ah! I also need some, and I shall have some money. 



SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 317 

Q. How much have you? 

A. A good deal of money. 

Q. A million? 

A. Oh! no, more than that; not a million, no, no. 

Not very clear; her replies seem contradictory. 

Q. I need some money. I wish you would sign a note for me. 

A. (By no means offended) Ah! Yes, a note. 

Q. (Writing) Your name is Mme. Bernard? 

A. That was my maiden name. 

Q. And your married name? 

A. Mme. Dubos. 

Q. Now you are going to sign this? Mme. Bernard will give 100 francs 
to M. Fran9ois. 

A. Ah! yes. (She laughs and signs.) 

Q. So you will give me 100 francs? 

A. (Without the least concern) I have 800 francs I can get, 20 francs, 
one glass. 

Thus it is extremely easy to obtain the signature of Mme. 
Bernard. To make her laugh a little and terminate the scene 
we risk a pleasantry, but she does not understand it. 

Q. In order that your debt may be altogether serious, I am going to 
make you swear upon the tail of a cow. 

A. (Seriously) Ah! there are cows at Partenay. (Her native city.) 

This has only the value of an anecdote. We cite it merely to 
establish a striking contrast from the point of view of feeling be- 
tween the woman Langlais, the senile dement who has a level of 
four years, and the woman Bernard, paralytic clement who has a 
level of seven years. While the former so easily evokes feelings 
which prevent her from loaning the money, the latter evokes 
nothing, lets things go, remains indifferent. This state of indiffer- 
ence by the way is very remarkable with general paralytics; and 
we suppose that their indifference must be attributed to troubles of 
functioning. They still possess the necessary feeling but they 
cannot evoke it, their difficulties of evocation bear therefore at 
the same time upon their feelings and upon their ideas. 

But in order for this thesis to be quite clear it must be limited 
and defined by several remarks. It does not seem that general 
paralytics have wholly lost the faculty of being emotionally 
aroused. Such an affirmation would be opposed to every day ob- 
servation. They are patients that under many circumstances 
show themselves very emotional. It is easy to anger them, easy 



318 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 

to make them weep. We recall a woman with the level of nine 
years to whom we said, by way of experiment, that they never 
gave the patients anything to eat at the hospital which she had 
just entered. Immediately she burst into tears like a child. It 
proved to be also the grief of a child which did not last long and 
which was easily consoled. Inside of three minutes we took the 




FIG. 24. MME. POIRE; GENERAL PARALYTIC; INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF 
NINE YEARS. WE HAVE JUST ANNOUNCED TO HER THAT AT THE HOSPITAL 
THEY NEVER EAT. THE PATIENT AT THIS NEWS BEGINS TO CRY. 

two photographs with contrary expressions. The emotions of 
these patients seem to us to lack continuity; they can be intense 
but they do not last long. Moreover they are incongruous and 
are often followed by states which are quite incompatible with 
them. We have seen an example of this in Kamonot, who said 
to us all in the same minute when we were conjecturing a cer- 
tain event, sad for her, "I would weep," then "I would laugh." 
In a word it is only the simplest, the most rudimentary feelings 



SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 



319 



which manifest themselves among general paralytics. There is a 
complete hierarchy in the emotional life. The so-called intellec- 
tual sentiments, those which form the substance of judgment, 
occupy the most elevated part of the scale; feelings of propriety, 
truth, probability, justice, are among those which are lost in the 
general paralytic. Thus the paralytic appears to us like a being 




FIG. 25. TWO MINUTES LATER WE ASSURE MME. POIRE THAT IT WAS A 
JOKE; SHE AT ONCE RESUMES HER SMILE OF SATISFACTION. 

whose personality is profoundly disturbed; if one compares a 
paralytic with a senile dement, both having the level of four years, 
one has the impression that in the case of the senile dement he 
is in the presence of somebody while with the paralytic there is no 
longer anybody. 



CONCLUSION 

As much to close this study as to begin others, we terminate 
by summing up whatever our experiments and reflections have 
taught us as essential in the psychology of senile and paralytic 
dementia. It will mark a stage of the journey for later works. 

These two forms of dementia correspond to a lowering of intel- 
ligence which is measurable, as we have seen; from this comes the 
practical conclusion that dements are unable to adapt themselves 
any longer to the ordinary condition of life and have need of the 
simpler life of the hospital. There is here, of course, a common- 
place phenomenon which is to be found in a great number of 
forms of insanity and can characterise none, because it is almost 
an absolute rule that the insane undergo a lowering of level. 

Second, traits more important than the preceding, senile and 
paralytic dementia belong to the category of deficient mental 
states; let us understand by that that these mental states sepa- 
rate themselves from the normal not by the addition of certain 
positive symptoms, which would constitute originality, but rather 
by the absence, the gap, the weakness of certain integral parts of 
the normal mechanism. From this point of view, the insanities 
resemble the original states of idiocy, imbecility and moronity, 
which constitute also the states frankly defective. 

Only, that which is a loss among dements is a lack of acquisi- 
tion among defectives. The difference between the one and the 
other is that the one is inertia of functioning and the other an in- 
sufficiency of development; this was already known or at least 
suspected; our work has especially consisted in putting precision 
into the statement and in filling out formulas that were rather 
empty. We know now that the inertia of functioning consists in a 
weakness of the evocation of the states of consciousness and that 
the lack of development is manifested in the quality of the states of 
consciousness which are not sufficiently differentiated. These 
few words sum up a considerable experience to which one must 

320 



CONCLUSION 321 

return in order to appreciate its value and which can serve the 
clinician for the diagnosis of embarrassing cases.^^ 

Here then is what we have learned about the intimate nature of 
dementia; we know how to distinguish it from original defective- 
ness; we do not distinguish it by means of incidents but by its 
characteristic form. It remains now to complete the comparison 
of dementia with other insane states. This comparison, if we 
sometime have the time and the means to pursue it, will permit 
us better to understand dementia, because by multiplying the 
points of comparison we make the study more profound. It will 
permit us especially to prolong our analysis of alienation. Since 
the study of imbeciles has enabled us to know dements, it is to be 
hoped that the study of dements, in their turn, will enable us to 
comprehend confusional states and delirium. In a well ordered 
sequence of works the results acquired facilitate the subsequent 
conquests, just as a stone placed in an edifice serves as a base for 
new stones. 

Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 

1^ It will be noted that we seem in all our study to have considered the 
weakness of evocation as a most important fact; it is a most important 
fact for the present article in which we are obliged to limit ourselves ; but 
we are far from thinking that this should be a most important fact for 
psychological explanations, and especially for physiological explanations. 
Only there should be an agreement as to the value and the import of cer- 
tain physiological explanations. Since Mathias Duval, some neurologists, 
some alienists have believed that they could explain a host of psychic 
phenomena, anaesthesia, amnesia, delirium, by supposing that these 
phenomena were due to the fact that some cerebral neurones had been 
severed from their communications. These are surely suppositions too 
convenient; they explain everything and consequently explain nothing. 
We refuse to explain in this manner the failure of evocation met with in 
dements. For the same reason we shall not state the very vague ideas 
that have been expressed on psychological phenomena considered as 
forces, which have been ingeniously described as a nerve force, a tension, 
a flow, a latent energy, comparing them to the physical force engendered by 
a reservoir full of water. It would be easy to apply these notions to the 
mental state of dements, and to say that their psychic processes are lack- 
ing in nerve force or in tension. But what is the use? Without conjectur- 
ing what the future may teach us about cerebral dynamics, we can say 
that for the present these are only metaphors. 



INDEX 



Acquisitions, distinction be- 
tween the faculties and the. 130 

Adaptation 137 

power of vs. faculty of 85 

Addition executed by Philippon 242 

Adjustment, tests of 103 

Alalia 173 

Albert, the definitions of 98 

imbecile 23,74 

reaction time of 34 

with the general Ill 

writing of 49 

Algebra, to solve a problem in. 139 

America 151 

Amiability 24 

Animal memory 88 

Animals and number 87 

react to pain 59 

understand gesture 183 

Aphasia 162 

an acquired 178 

and poverty of language 188 

congenital motor 179 

Aphasic 189 

Arithmetic, patients are weak in 283 

Arithmetical faculty 86 

two operations 87 

Arsenal, equipped 132 

Articulation 171 

movements necessary for 183 

of words 186 

Assent without motive 106 

Association of ideas 64 

Attention 141 

depth of 43 

forced, value of 42 

its concentration 26 

means of reinforcing 28 

mono-ideism 151 

tests of 32 

tests of effort of 43 

the four degrees 30 

without coordination there is 
no 137 



Attitude, difference of 113 

Atomism, theory of psychic 137 

Auto-censure 146 

Automatism 129 

Autopsies 179 

Beauchamp, measurement of 

the level of 225 

Beauvisage, imbecile. . . .' 17, 37 

Box, the refilling of a 106 

Brain of the idiot diseased 58 

Cabussel 145 

discovering slight differences . 55 

head measurements 38 

imbecile 79 

reaction time 34 

Center "O" 129 

Cephalometry 38 

Chair is called a cork screw 107 

Children and animals 177 

Choice 138 

Colors, naming of by a general 

paralytic 237 

Comparison, necessity of mak- 
ing a 136 

Comprehension of words 186 

surpasses execution 178 

Concrete, value of the 94 

Confession, Albert's 116 

Consciousness, a directing state 

of 135 

Control, effect of the 147 

Coordination, a lack of 130 

Correction, the 146 

Counts backwards, Philippon.. 251 

Counting 89 

Cretin, imbecile 15 

Critical sense 146 

Critics of tomorrow 10 

Darwin 57 

Deafness, congenital word 179 



323 



324 



INDEX 



Defective, a normal who lacks 

something 128 

difference between the, and 
the normal not the absence 

of a particular faculty 133 

Defectives, age of the intelli- 
gence of 9 

like young normal children . . 96 

Deference 112 

Definitions superior to use 97 

Degenerates 148 

Dement distinguished from the 

mental defective 273 

Dementis, comparison between 

senile and paralytic 310 

criticism of definitions of ... . 219 

global 294 

intellectual level in 222 

not characterized by a lower- 
ing of level 295 

patients obey 107 

Denise 164 

handwriting of 46 

imbecile 21 

language of 212 

Description higher than enum- 
eration 97 

Development, insuflBciency of. . 289 

Diderot 147 

Difference, slightest perceptible 53 

Differences, perception of 51 

Differentiation, lack of 144 

Direction, power of 137 

weak among imbeciles 136 

Dissociation, Denise a case of . . 177 

Distraction 28 

Docile group 20 

the 11 

Docility 104, 116 

and rebelliousness 23 

what is? 117 

Dog, the, recognizes his name. . . 178 

the suggestion of the 108 

Dreams 135 

Duneize 37 

Dupont, M. Marius 173 

Dynamometer, two factors at 
work 32 



Dysalalia 172 

Echolalia 183 

Effort, absence of, characteris- 
tic 101 

depends upon intellectual 

level 43 

of adaptation 145 

Embarrassment not in imbeciles 65 

English school 151 

Enumerators 96 

Esthetic sense, imbecile has 133 

Evocation 134, 261 

characteristic disturbances of 277 
of coordinated movements . . 186 

a defect of 246 

failures of 264 

of an idea 144 

mental 183 

weakness of the 320 

Evolution of the writing move- 
ment 50 

Faculties, distinction between 

the, and the acquisitions . . 130 

inventive and corrective 127 

mental, not found among 

defectives 132 

Fallieres 266 

Fatigue, relation of to the ab- 
sence of effort 43 

Feeling, idea and, make one . . 314 
Figures, immediate repetition 

of 32 

memory for 39 

recitation of 89 

Fool, an educated 125 

Functioning and development.. 271 

difficulty of 236 

diflficulty of 260 

insufficiency of 289 

Galiard 37 

General paralysis 219 

psychological signs of 234 

General paralytics, delirium 

frequent among 265 

mental level of .224 

paralytic, Samse .262 



INDEX 



325 



General, the suggestion of the. 109 

Gentil, handwriting of 47 

Gestures, slowness of 240 

Global, disturbance is 294 

Grammar of Victor 207 

Greffage 236, 254 

Griffon, moron 23, 37, 119 

reaction time 35 

Hearing-mutes 178 

Horse, a learned 176 

Idea, directing, fails 135 

the directing 134 

Idiot, capacity of 168 

does not coordinate 137 

extra-social 25 

Idiots are mute 132 

character of 12 

pain among 58 

Illusions in exterior perceptions 247 
in verbal perceptions 248 

Images, motor, of articulation. 183 
thought without 151, 216 

Imagination, too much 127 

weak 127 

Imbecile, an, and a general 

paralytic 290 

anti-social 25 

a well behaved pupil 29 

capacity of 168 

does not actually resemble a 
normal child of same mental 

age 161 

equal to a normal person. . . . 140 

ideation of 71 

is one born poor 234 

loquacious (Cab ussel) 78 

observation of an 164 

of forty, the same he was ten 

years ago 161 

the mentality of 140 

the work of an 103 

Imbeciles, a pity to teach 94 

and number sense 86 

character of 16 

obtuseness to pain 63 

the advantage of studying. . . 161 



Imbeciles, the species for the 

genus 9 

vocabulary of 37 

Impossible, nothing is, to man. 279 

Inertia 265 

of comprehension 249 

what is functional 269 

Instinct, abused word 315 

Instincts, dominate the 140 

Instruction, a matter of 130 

attribute errors to 125 

dangerous 93 

Intellectual, acts in general 95 

Intelligence 131 

a certain quality in 43 

activity of, distinguished from 

level of 73 

and perception 51 

distinction between idea- 
tional and instinctive 297 

does suggestibility depend 

upon 114 

ideational 315 

instinctive 315 

language as a sign of 193 

not necessary in weight dis- 
crimination 57 

not required 89 

that lacks penetration 103 

Interpretation 97 

Introspection, superannuated. . 151 
Ireland, W 89 

Judgment 146 

acts as a check 127 

Key, comparison of the 145 

Kraepelin 116, 161,219 

Language, acquisition of 51 

as a sign of human intelli- 
gence 193 

evolution of 198 

intellectual level necessary 

for the formation of 197 

lack of depends on weakness 

of intelligence 179, 181 

of psychology 162 



326 



INDEX 



Language, the relation between 

thought and 210 

stages in the acquisition of . . 185 

Lapsus calami 240 

Laraze, normal but unstable.. . 18 
Length of lines, perception of. 53 

L'Esprit faux 118 

Life, real, a solution of problems. 95 

Lisping I72 

Locksmith, illustration of the . . 140 

Macolard, Mme., senile dement 298 

Manners, lack of good 147 

Marie, quoted 193 

Measuring Scale, applicable to 

dements 223 

M. Meillet, plan for an indi- 
vidual linguistic study.... 206 

Memory, animal 88 

for figures 39 

Memories, slowness in the re- 
call of certain 237 

Mental defective distinguished 

from the dement 273 

Mental instability 20 

Mental level of Beauchamp 225 

types of character and 25 

Merlin, quoted 117 

Microcephalic, Cabussel 38 

Mind, the genesis of 130 

Moliere, quoted 125 

Money, difficult operations 90 

wishing to borrow 307 

Moron, how a, can have I'es- 

prit faux 118 

Morons, character of 16 

vocabulary of 37 

Moronity 130 

Movement 44 

quickness of 32, 33 

Music Box, measuring the at- 
tention 33 

is papa ! 184 

N'importequisme 142, 172 

Number, contrast between 

animal and verbal 94 

sense 86 



Pain, the sense of 58 

Papa, music box 185 

Paralytic, the, shows indiffer- 
ence 263 

Paralytics, excellent subjects 

for the tests 223 

Paris, fortune, river 124 

Patience, game of 100, 143 

Pedagogy 152 

Pedagogical examination, ref- 
erence table of 282 

Penetration, lack of 143 

Perception, fineness of equals 

the normal 56 

and intelligence 51 

intelligence of 57 

verbal 174 

weakness of intelligence and 

delicacy of 53 

Perceptions incomplete 245 

Personality of the experimenter. 36 

Philippon 250 

Photograph, posing for a 33 

Pictures, perception of 96 

Pins, counted 204 

Poire, Mme., general paralytic. 318 
Portraits: 

Vouzin 12-14 

Cretin 15 

Beauvisage 17 

Laraze 19 

Denise 21, 22 

Victor 23 

Albert 74, 111 

Cabussel 79, 81 

Griffon 119 

Binet 159 

Philippon 250, 251 

Mme. Solas 274 

Mme. Macolard 298 

Mme. Poire 318, 319 

Practical life, the knowledge of. 285 

Problems, the solving of 95 

Pronunciation defective 183 

Psychogenetics 9 

Psychogenetic method, a new. . 159 

Ps3^chogenesis of language 163 

Psychology a science of action. 152 



INDEX 



327 



Psychology of acquisition 171 

of conservation 171 

experimental 159 

functional 151 

pathological 159 

structural 151 

PuUulation, lack of 143 

Question only partially under- 
stood 257 

Reaction time 32, 65 

Reaction times of Madame 

Solas 280 

Reaction time shorter in de- 
fectives than in normals. . . 71 

Reading a barrier 131 

Rebellious, the 11 

Reflection 31 

Resemblances, perception of... 51 

Residues 280 

Rhymes 103 

Ridiculous, sense of the, not 

lost 304 

Scribbling of Vouzin 44 

Sensibility, investigation of . . . . 51 
Sensitivity, difficulties of study- 
ing in the feeble-minded. . . 52 

Sentence, construct a 103 

Sentences, length and nature of 

Victor's 207 

Sidis, Boris 114 

Snow, black 116 

Social attention 30 

feelings, distinctive among 

defectives 24 

Solas, Mme., general paralytic. 274 

Species, the genus for the 142 

Speech, an art 131 

articulate 189 

comprehension always pre- 
cedes 181 

of automatic recitation 189 

of denomination 190 

of repetition 190 

psychological condition of . . . 181 
Suggestion, imbeciles can resist. 114 



Suggestibility 104 

Synthesis 129 

Test, the reason a general par- 
alytic fails in, is not the 

same as for an imbecile 272 

Tests, of voluntary effort 32 

Thought, the adaptation of 137 

a scheme of 128, 133 

consists in an adaptation 147 

consista in what 211 

the direction of 133 

distinct from the image 215 

not a passive state 134 

origin of the scheme of 148 

power of directing the 137 

tends to a determination 138 

what remains of a 314 

Time of reaction 34 

Tricolor 126 

Unconscious, relation of the 

conscious to the 152 

Verbal replies, the form of ... . 287 

Victor's definitions 98 

Victor, diagnosis of 206 

imbecile 22 

note book of 48 

Vocabulary of Denise 170 

Voluntary effort 32 

Vouzin 26 

idiot 12 

scribbling of 45 

Vowels better pronounced than 

the consonants 173 

Walkers, the illustration of two 

poor 296 

Weights, experiment of 53 

impossible to perceive the 

difference 136 

Word comprehension 190 

conditions for pronouncing a. 182 
Words, calling up the maximum 

number 36 

cited 37 

definitions of 97 



328 INDEX 

Words, designate objects 183 Writing sample of: 

difficulty in pronouncing 238 Denise 46 

thoughts without 151. 314 Gentil 47 

Writings of Vousin, Victor, etc.. 44 Victor 48 

Writing sample of : Albert 48 

Vouzin , 45 Wurtzburg, method of 148 



The Following Pages Contain Advertisements tf Books 
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FEEBLE -MINDEDNESS: ITS CAUSES AND TONSEC JENCES 
BY HENRY H. GODDARD, PH.D. 

Cloth, 8vo, 599 pp., $4.00 postpaid 

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For Sale at The Training School at Vineland, New Jersey 













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